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“Perhaps fragile is a better word then?” He said, flashing his pointed canines like a wolf. “The most valuable things are,”
Except for his axes. The only possessions he tucked neatly beneath his pillow as if afraid to part from them even in his sleep.
Ironically, there was no place safer for Aisling to be than sleeping amongst the monsters themselves. So, who did they fear? Who did they guard against?
“I prefer to toy with my mortal princesses first: chase them, play with them, and only then are they satisfying to eat.”
“You wound me, princess,” Lir feigned offense. “So long as I’m near, the trow won’t manage a taste much less a bite. I’m a jealous king,”
“You describe the world as if they are nothing more than beasts.” “Most of us are.”
“You wish to corrupt me,”
“I use the pointy end and stick it in your heart.”
“I hardly think of you as a ‘cornered creature’ or prey for that matter. There’s more that runs in your blood than your people would credit you for.”
“You drive me mad waiting.” “You shouldn’t claim to wait upon that which you dread,”
For only demons and monsters could eat poison and live,
“The skin of a lamb will never flatter a wolf.”
“What are you?” he asked.
“Perhaps you should focus on your own destructive tendencies instead of mine,”
“In that gown, you look as lethal as a nightmare and as feral as the dreams that follow.”
