“Mercy," he mumbled. "What the hell did you do to my French Roast?”

“What did you say?" Bronwyn asked.Ranulf scowled, hating to be caught mumbling. Something else he never did. "I said that I don't yell! I don't shout! Ever!""I find that hard to believe,my lord, for I have heard you do quite a lot of both since you arrival.”

“What did you do?” I mumble. He is just a few feet away from me now, but not close enough to hear me. As he passes me he stretches out his hand. He wraps it around my palm and squeezes. Squeezes, then lets go. His eyes are bloodshot; he is pale. “What did you do?” This time the question tears from my throat like a growl. I throw myself toward him, struggling against Peter’s grip, though his hands chafe. “What did you do?” I scream. “You die, I die too” Tobias looks over his shoulder at me. “I asked you not to do this. You made your decision. These are the repercussions.”

“What the fuck is going on Lor? What the hell did you do last night? What did you say to Kacey? Who the hell is Blue Eyes and why is my car spray-painted with the word ‘asshole’?”Spray-paint? Oh dear God, what have I done?”

“Forgive me-he mumbled against her lips. Please. Forgive me for what I'm going to do to you.~Shade”

“Is there anything which does not do as you say?" the girl asked archly. He blushed."You know my cry. I do not know yours," he mumbled, not meeting her gaze.”