“He now clearly perceived the truth which was henceforth to be the centre of his life, namely, that while she was there, while he had her near him, he would need nothing except for her sake and fear nothing except on her account. He was not even conscious of feeling extremely cold, having taken off his coat to cover her.”

“He had seen her just hours ago, goddamn it, and he couldn't wait to fight with her again, to talk with and hear what ridiculous thing she said next, to cuddle and laugh with her, to pin her down and drive into her again until there was nothing left inside of him, nothing left inside of her except his name.”

“His affection for the human grew steadily by the day. Sometimes by the minute. And it wasn’t simply her beauty, but her utter lack of fear of everything and anything except her brother. She didn’t fear dying. She didn’t fear battle. And, most importantly, she didn’t fear Fearghus. She touched him. Ran her hands across his scales and through his mane.But it was when he covered her up with the fur and she sighed his name in her sleep, that he lost his heart.”

“Walk to her. Take her hand. But his feet were leaden, and Dorian could do nothing except watch her. His skin flushed beneath his small black mask. He didn't know why, but seeing her made him feel like a man. She was something out of a dream- a dream in which he was not a spoiled young prince, but a king.”

“He looked at her, smiling. Her heart—which had been beating pretty rapidly all evening, increased in pace. His hair was ruffled and he had a scattering of sand on his arms. He was gorgeous. And he was looking at her as if she were covered in maple syrup and he wanted to lick it off. She couldn’t believe her luck.”

“She thought in would be awkward for both to be brought into conscious collision; and fancied that, from her being on a low seat at first, and now standing behind her father, he had overlooked her in his haste. As if he did not feel the consciousness of her presence all over, though his eyes had never rested on her!”