“W:"At least I'm not pussy-whipped!"T:"Nice. Fucking. Suit."--Wrath to Tohr”

“And then Tohr said softly, "I'm lucky to have found love, I thank the Scribe Virgin every day that Wellsie is in my life."Wrath's Temper surged, set off by something he couldn't put his finger on. "You're pathetic."Tohr hissed. "And you've been dead for hundreds of years. You're just too mean to find a grave and lie down."Wrath threw the leather jacket on the floor. "At least I'm not pussy whipped."Nice. F*cking. Suit.”

“Tohr laughed softly. "Yeah, I'm not much for the emotive crap either-Ouch! Wellsie, what the he*l?”

“If it had been anyone else, Wrath would have used his favourite pair of words: Fuck and off”

“Wrath what do you say""Fuck' came the reply"Appropriate word choice, my lord, but not really an answer".”

“He stopped when he heard Wellsie's voice coming out of the study. "… some kind of nightmare. I mean, Tohr, he was terrified… No, he fudged when I asked him what it was, and I didn't press. I think it's time he sees Havers. Yes… UAH-Hugh. He should meet Wrath first. Okay. I love you, myhellren . What? God, Tohr, I feel the same way. I don't know how we ever lived without him. He is such a blessing.”

“It looked like Tohr and the kid had a lot in common: Courtesy of their tempers, both were now dressed in the Captain Asshole costume—which included, for no extra charge, the cape of disgrace, the booties of shame, and keys to the Fuck Up mobile.”