“Images cluttered the pages, but one tattoo set her nerves on edge; inky black eyes surrounded by wings likes shadows coalescing. Mine. The thought, the need, the reaction was overpowering. Leslie looked up. "This one." she said. "I need this one.But the image is more than just tempting art, and it draws her into a world of shadows and desire- into the world of Faerie.”

“Like many faeries she knew, he was sculpture-perfect, but instead of being wrought of shadows like those in her court, this faery had a tangled feel to him. Shadow and radiance. He didn‘t look much older than her, until she saw the arrogance in his posture. Then, he reminded her of Irial, of Bananach, of Keenan, of the faeries who walked through courts and crowds confident that they could slaughter everyone in the room. Like chaos in a glass cage.”

“Leslie?" Irial whispered. "What are you doing?""Choosing."Tears were soaking the blanket under Leslie's face."I'm mine. Not anyone else's.""I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl." And then he was gone, and her emotions crashed over her.”

“-"Leslie? What are you doing?"-"Choosing. I'm mine. Not anyone else's."-"I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl.”

“He reached out and caressed her face. With a serious expression, he traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "You‘re beautiful, Ani. In all of eternity, there‘s never been another faery who could make me want to forget everything and everyone else.""Because you like the way I look?" She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, my dream mind is shallow.""No, not the exterior. You… the tempers and follies and passion… even the way you care for that infuriating steed."Devlin gazed at her like she was precious. "Even knowing you could be fatal, I would‘ve said yes."Her chest hurt like she had held her breath too long as she asked, "To?""Whatever you wanted." He didn‘t reach out and pull her into his embrace. Instead, he took one step forward, leaned down, and kissed her.”

“She stretched up on her tiptoes, tilted her head, trying to get even closer. Seth slid a hand around her waist and kissed her like she was the air, and he was suffocating. And she forgot about everything: there were no faeries, no Sight, nothing €”just them.”

“It wasn't the tattoo that had changed her, had given her repossession of her body. It was her actions, her choices. It was finding the path when it looked like there weren't any paths to be found.”