This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.

Are men truly such idiots that they cannot resist two orbs of flesh?

When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.

You would throw away all that we have given you for a man’s love?” “Not a man’s love,” I say softly. “But Duval’s. And I would find a way to serve both my god and my heart. Surely He does not give us hearts so we may spend our lives ignoring them.

In the distance a wolf howls. Let it come, I think. Beast will most likely simply howl back, and the creature will either turn tail and run or fall into line behind him, like the rest of us have.

Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours, until Death do us part. Whatever that may mean when consorting with one of Death’s handmaidens.