“Are you decent?" a woman's voice called, pushing the door cautiously ajar. "Nay, but we're clothed," Cian purred.”

“Propping the mirror against the wall near the door, he waved a hand at it and clipped, "Drustan: Cian MacKeltar. Cian: Drustan MacKeltar.""Dageus," Drustan's voice was soft as velvet, never a good sign, "why are you introducing me to a mirror?”

“The entire time I'm burning in Hell, I'll regret each tear I made you weep. But if Hell were the price for twenty days with you, I'd condemn myself again and again. - Cian MacKeltar ”

“That's it. Fate is a fickle whore. We're not going. Take your clothes off and get back in my bed.”

“Nobody's perfect for battling evil. It's seductive. When we find it, it's going to come at you with everything it's got." I was braced for it. I knew it would. I took a deep, slow breath, filling my lungs, squaring my shoulders. "Jericho, I feel like my whole life have been pushing me toward this moment." "That's it. Fate's a fickle whore. We're not going. Take your clothes off and get back in my bed.”

“I want purple trews, lass," Drustan called over the door. "No," she said irritably. "And a purple shirt.”

“You have splendid breasts, lass," he purred, cupping the plump mounds. "Splendid," he repeated stupidly, and she almost laughed. Men loved breasts any shape or form, they just loved them.-Drustan to Gwen”