He hissed, “You do not strike the King!” “You’re not my king!” she shouted back.

He hadn’t eaten for a very long time, and he was in the mood to find out what a falcon tasted like.

I have unanswered questions, Dr. Shaw,” Oberon said. “We all have something,” she told him. After resting for almost two hours, her voice was marginally better. “I have a full bladder, but I don’t feel safe enough to pee.

Your music hurts, the way sunshine hurts when you’ve existed for a long time in darkness.

With her face tilted up to his, the subtle edge of moonlight touched along the edge of one high cheekbone, the tilted edge of one eye, and those beautiful, enticing lips. Obeying an impulse he couldn’t put into words, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.

He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount.

Just when I was coping with the idea that I’d necked with a werewolf,” she muttered. “Just when I was beginning to flirt with the idea of possibly… possibly inviting sex with a werewolf. I’m trying to imagine how I would tell this story to my best friend. I think it would go something like this: See, I’ve never seen him in daylight. He’s just this werewolf guy.” Beside her, he had stiffened. Very quietly, he said, “Sex?

He cupped her head with both hands. “You’re full of your own kind of magic, and it’s much more rare and beautiful than all the other spells around you. They are commonplace. You are unique.

There was nothing else in the entire universe, nothing but the two of them together. Her curves, his angles. Her light, his darkness. Her softness, his exquisitely aching hardness. Male. Female.