Tis a well-known fact that a man is either skilled in matters of loving or matters of war. ’Tis obvious that fighting is your skill.

And you look beautiful without it, but I want you to feel just as beautiful as I see you.

Whoa, wait a minute, Coletrane. Are you proposing to me?” “Well I would if you’d let me finish,” he grumbled.

She smiled then, an adorable, sweet smile that took his breath away. He forgot all about trying to maintain an air of civility. His inner caveman came barreling out, grunting and pounding his chest and muttering unintelligible words.

What are the two of you whispering about?” Alaric demanded irritably. She glanced over to see the warrior watching her, his eyes narrow with suspicion. “If I wanted you to know, I’d have spoken louder,” she said calmly. He turned away muttering what she was sure were more blasphemies about annoying females. “You must make the priest weary with the length of your confessions,” she said. He raised one eyebrow. “Who says I confess anything?

I've always considered myself a good person. I've never done anything to purposely hurt anyone. I was in shock that this happened to me, and because it did, I turned into this vengeful person. I've never truly hated anyone, but I was glad when I saw him lying there on the floor.

Most of all, I want you to know without a doubt that I've got your back. And your front. And your sides. I've got all of you and I'm not letting go.