I cannae believe you let me touch you.” His voice grew hoarse. “I shall remember this for all my nights.” Tears speared into her eyes. Dearest Virgin Scribe, for all her life, she had waited for a moment like this…. “Do not cry.” His thumb went to her cheeks. “Beautiful female of worth, do not cry.

Dedicated to: You. There will never be another like you. For me...you are the one. Yeah, I don't have enough words for this.

And God help them both, if it hadn’t been for Saxton, Qhuinn would have dropped the l-word right then and there, even though the timing was stupid.

I love you. And I'm going to keep loving you even after you don't know I exist.

I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I have remained largely unread.

He cleared his throat and reminded himself that if you pissed Her Holiness off, they'd need barbecue tongs to pick up your steaming pieces.

Blay didn’t shake the hand that was offered. He reached over, took a hold of the fighter’s face, and drew Qhuinn in for a kiss. It was supposed to be only a split-seconder— like their lips were the ones doing the handshake thing. When he went to pull back, though, Qhuinn captured him, and held him in place. Their mouths met again… and again… and once more, their heads tilting to the sides, the contact lingering. “You’re welcome,” Blay said roughly. Then he smiled a little. “Can’t say it was all a pleasure, though.