“As soon as I turned the key I saw it hanging, the color of fire and sunset. the colour of flamboyant flowers. ‘If you are buried under a flamboyant tree, ‘ I said, ‘your soul is lifted up when it flowers. Everyone wants that.’She shook her head but she did not move or touch me.”

“I took a deep breath and kept my focus fixed on her. "Making me chase you wouldn't be a good idea right now, flower," I stated, fully aware of my Wolf."No, it wouldn't, but you need to stay over there," she said firmly.My brow furrowed. "Why?""Because, if you come near me, I will want to kiss you," she said, nibbling her lower lip the way I wanted to."Well good, because I want to kiss you too." I moved back the way I had come, and so did she. "Clare—""No, not good." She shook her head. "Kissing leads to touching, or grinding, or"—she shuddered as her energy suggestively brushed against mine— "or petting, and almost stripping.”

“Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.”

“She looked at her roses. They were white, some incurved and holy, others expanded in an ecstacy. The tree was dark as a shadow. She lifted her hand impulsively to the flowers; she went forward and touched them in worship.”

“I liked it when my mother tried to teach me things, when she paid attention. So often when I was with her, she was unreachable. Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.”

“He clenched Nix's shoulders. 'Why did you hesitate? I saw you hesitate!' He shook her until her head lolled, while she grinned and said, 'Wheeee!”