661 Quotes by Storm Constantine

The empress of Pharinet’s tale was perhaps the kind of mother Varencienne would have liked to have had all along: a priestess, a sorcererss, with a forgotten book of secret knowledge. Her own fantasies could not have provided a more perfect history. Yet this Tatrini lived only in Pharinet’s words. Varencienne would need proof for herself.

Caradore was not at rest. Ghosts walked there unseen: the shade of a younger, more innocent Valraven, Ellony, Thomist, Pharinet’s parents, and even Khaster, although he had not lived there. His shade would be beautiful, sensitive and mournful.

The air was hushed and still as if the fog were an enchantment beneath whose spell the whole world slept.

Caradore has made a woman out of a little mouse.

She told herself she wanted to know what was in his mind. She told herself she was intrigued by him because of his relationship with Valraven. But in her heart she knew the truth: there was power in him that he could show her, that she could learn about, power that Ellony could never have. Also, he was very attractive.

He was not a golden lion like his father, but a golden serpent, who might coil about her and constrict her life away.

The kiss was an enchantment; oddly chaste, yet steaming with repressed desire.

I wanted you, Pharinet. Is that so terrible? I love your brother. It often frightens me how much. I have to possess what he possesses.

Khaster looked vulnerable and beautiful. He looked pure.