“(Background: Morgan is a female warrior looking for a fight. Adhémar is your garden variety male.)A man near the door leered at her. Adhémar immediately stepped in front of her, but Morgan pushed him aside. She looked at the man and smiled pleasantly. Ah, something to take her mind off her coming journey."Did you say something?" she asked."Aye," he said, "I asked it you were occupied tonight, but I can see you have a collection of lads here to keep you busy—"Adhémar apparently couldn't control his chivalry. He took the man by the front of the shirt and threw him out the door. The man crawled to his feet and started bellowing. Adhémar planted his fist into the man's face.The stranger slumped to the ground, senseless. Morgan glared at Adhémar."You owe me a brawl," she said."What?" he asked incredulously."A brawl," Morgan said. "And it had best be a good one.""With me?" he asked, blinking in surprise."I'd prefer someone with more skill, that I might not sleep through it, but you'll do."Paien laughed out loud and pulled him away."Adhémar, my friend, you cannot win this one. Next time, allow Morgan her little pleasures. She cannot help the attention her face attracts, and thus she has opportunities to teach ignorant men manners. In truth, it is a service she offers, bettering our kind wherever she goes.”

“Shut up," Morgan said, whirling on the woman and pointing the sword at her. "Shut up, you shrill harpy, before I aid you in doing so by means of a dozen ways you won't care for in the least."Adhémar's fiancée fell, blessedly, silent.”

“Morgan watched in shock as her friend fell, all of her anger draining out of her. She knelt next to him and rolled him onto his back. His breathing was ragged, as though he had to fight for every gulp of air he took.”

“His lips pressed against her forehead and she felt him smile against her skin. "Believe me...the only place in the world I want to be is wherever you are." -Grant Morgan”

“So do you have a kilt?" Megan asked him. When I glared at her, she said, "What? He only said you couldn't ask." She looked at him. "So do you?"Straightening up, Zachary rubbed the back of his neck and smirked. "I might, I might."God, he was gorgeous. And Scottish. But maybe kind of an ass.”

“What's your name?” When she said nothing, he sighed. “You'll find that cooperating will go a long way with me.”“Fine,” she bit out. “It's Sela.”"See? That didn't hurt, did it?” He pushed to his feet, giving her the opportunity she needed.Rolling, she swung her legs out, caught him in the knees...and he went down like a log. Granted, he was up again in a heartbeat, snarling with fury, but still, it felt good to give him a good whack.“You can't help it, can you?” he snapped. “You keep doing stupid things.”“You keep pissing me off!”He blinked. And then he laughed, and good Lord, the man was drop-dead, fucking gorgeous when he did that.-Logan and Sela”