She had both of her hands clamped to her mouth to stay any more of the screech and waited until her heart finished its tenth pounding beat before moving. Nobody ever heard her scream, or screech, or moan, or anything. And why? Because she was an emotionless shell, and that’s exactly how she liked it. She’d groomed it. Studiously maintained it. Lived it. No matter what. And now, thanks to the violation of her privacy, she’d given him exactly what he took as his due: female reaction. Sybil ran her hands along the opening of her cloak, feeling the velvet, stiff and thick in her palms. And then she was unfastening the garment and hanging it, and scanning the black corners of her room for anything that looked like a large blond wretch in Highland clothing. The only thing she spotted was Waif slinking along the wall. Sybil clicked her tongue, and the wolf came slowly from behind one of her cabinets, a bit of blue and black plaide held in his teeth. She held out her hand for it and restrained the instant burst of emotion in case there was blood on it.
What do You think about Once Upon A Knight (2009)?
