Open the door for me that I might breathe the night.
Zendedari said and tried not to devour Caitlin with his eyes. He was well aware she was beginning to see that no one - certainly not her with her gentle, compassionate nature - could oppose his will, a will honed in the fires of hell.
She did as he asked. "You didn't try to get up, did you? You can't, Jacques. You'll do too much damage. And if you keep adding scar tissue, you'll end up looking like Frankenstein."
He had closed his eyes to inhale the fresh, clean night air.
We don't ever scar.
It came out of nowhere. He was elated he remembered something. He was even elated he remembered Frankenstein.
Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, really? Then what's that thin line around your throat? I barely caught it, but it's there."
