“She might not be bound to him, but she was still his Shadow Girl.”

“I'm still yours, though. That won't ever change, Shadow Girl.”

“Then she was alone- with only a wolf for companionship- waiting to tell the next girl what a folly it was to love him, to trust him.”

“-"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.”

“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.”

“The girl's kind, good. . . . Totally too good for you.""So were you." He kissed her cheek, singed it with his lips. "You still are.""Bastard." She shoved him, ignoring the burning in her palm from touching him.He put a hand on his shoulder, metling the ice that formed where she'd pushed too hard. It crackled under his touch. "Only because Beira murdered my father.”

“She might scream when the nightmares found her, but not by choice, not when she was awake.”