“Ye belong to me,” he said, whispering the words against her mouth, “only ye refuse to admit it, even to yerself. But ye will. One day, Ye will. - Alysandir Mackinnon”
“Do ye want me?" he whispered. "Sassenach, will ye take me - and risk the man that I am, for the sake of the man ye knew?”
“Ye said yerself that the man was bonny enough to sup with a spoon.”
“To see the years touch ye gives me joy", he whispered, "for it means that ye live.”
“Blood of my Blood," he whispered, "and bone of my bone. You carry me within ye, Claire, and ye canna leave me now, no matter what happens, You are mine, always, if ye will it or no, if ye want me or nay. Mine, and I wilna let ye go.”
“Only you," he said, so softly I could barely hear him. "To worship ye with my body, give ye all the service of my hands. To give ye my name, and all my heart and soul with it. Only you. Because ye will not let me lie--and yet ye love me.”