“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.”

“The fear you let build up in your mind is worse than the situation that actually exists”

“How can you stand without a spine ? Turn your fucking back on me ? Yet I will walk away with a smile. You will become my newest creation. So where has all of this gotten you ? With a blade to your throat. I can smell the fear on you. I will wipe you clean from my memory. You cry out and tremble before me. So prepare to meet your fucking maker. So put your mouth to the curb. Now you're going to be famous”

“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.”

“My life was pouring out my feet and seeping through cracks in the floor; yet still I knelt and did not move, for fear she'd let go my hands. Let me stay, I wanted to beg: Please don't make me go.”

“Stay," he said abruptly. "Stay, feed me. Read to me, if you like. Do not talk to me of death. Do not offer me your fear. I have fear of my own to drive me, and if my own fear is not strong enough to keep me from my duty, yours will only grieve me, girl. It will give me guilt and no rest, but it won't preserve my life.”