“Damn it, MacRieve, if you keep calling me kitten, then I'm going to start calling you something equivalent, like hound dog - and then we'll both be losers.”

“Similar situation ? Like the one where you put me in fear for my life, then let go of that damned vine to heartlessly build my fear ? MacRieve, I hope I enthralled you. Then you can rot wanting me to be yours.”

“Age before beauty, Mr. MacRieve. If you think you can fit.""Only humans call me Mr. MacRieve.""I'm not a human. So would you like me to call you Bowen, or Bowe for short?""Bowe is what my friends call me, so you doona.""No problem. I have a slew of other more fitting names for you. Most of them end in er.""You in the tunnel first.""Don't you think it'd be unbecoming for me to be on my hands and knees in front of you? Besides, you don't need my lantern to see in the dark, and if you go first, you'll be sure to lose me and get to the prize first.""I doona like anything, or anyone, at my back. And you'll have your little red cloak on, so I will no' be able to see anything about you that might be... unbecoming.""Twisting my words? I'll have you know that I am criminally cute - ""Then why hide behind a cloak?""I'm not hiding. And I like to wear it. Fine. Beauty before age.”

“Go tae your hands again…let me give it tae you. Lachlain MacRieve”

“Schecter turned to MacRieve. “And what is your field, Dr…?”Despite the fact that he was a prince, he answered, “Mr. MacRieve. I’m here in a security capacity for my wife. She’s the beauty and brains—I’m the brawn.”She stiffened again at his calling her his wife. MacRieve had no idea how much that word bothered her.Schecter asked, “Why exactly would anyone need security?”“Are you jesting?” MacRieve asked. “You doona know?” He flashed an aggravated look at Travis, then said simply, “Because we’re in the bluidy Amazon.”

“This is what it's all been about with you," he said in an even tone. "All the fear, all the running. The nightmares." When she nodded, he said, "You called him the devil.""He is." What are you thinking, Scot?"But you... married him?"MacRieve's disgusted with me. "Basically? Yes.""Ceremony and everything?"She swallowed. "He tricked me into it. I-I was only sixteen."A muscle ticked in his cheek and his irises grew pale. "Then know this..."She stopped breathing."Lass, I'm about to make you a widow--”

“MacRieve, you're on my cloak. Let up -. Give it back!""It was slowing you - and therefore me - down.""If you had gone first - ""I dinna. If you want it, why no' use magick to take it from me?""You really do not want me to do that.""You really must no' want your cloak back. Come then, witchling, just take it from me.""Keep the cloak. It'll be worth money one day.""Doona fret, witch. You're no' so unbecoming from my angle. Bit scrawny where it counts, but no' too bad.""Scrawny where it counts, MacRieve? Funny, I'd heard the same about you.""No' likely. Maybe you're just too young to have heard the rumors about Lykae males. Tender wee ears and such.”