If I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.I'd dream about the way you smell and how your dark hair feels like silk between my fingers. I'd dream about the smoothness of your skin and the fierceness of your lips when we kiss. Without dreams,I have to be content with my own imagination—which is almost as good. I can picture all those things perfectly.

You make learning fun. Like a children’s book or after school special. Tell me about your…um, Athenian women.

Blake smiled radiantly. ʺMay I call you Vasilisa?ʺ ʺYou can call me Lissa.ʺ ʺYou can also,ʺ added Christian, ʺlet go of her hand now.

If your eyes weren't open, you wouldn't know the difference between dreaming and waking.

You used your power to toss one rock at me?" he exclaimed, an almost comic note of incredulity in his voice. "On the contrary," I heard Dorian say pleasantly. "I didn't use magic for that. I just threw it.

Then, as one hand tightened on me and his other ran gently over my hair, I noticed something. He didn't smell right.

I felt a strange fluttering sensation in my chest. Butterflies, cardiac arrest . . . it was hard to say what exactly.