One gray eye opened, staring at her warily. She felt as if…

““One gray eye opened, staring at her warily. She felt as if she were looking at a wild thing- some animal much more powerful than she, deciding whether to trust her or to devour her. He must have made a decision, one way or the other, for he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and stood. His face was gray, highlighting the livid scar, and she wondered what had happened to make him so wounded- both on his face and his soul. She rose as well, keeping her shoulder under his arm, wrapping her smaller arms around his waist to steady him. "Come. It's only a little way to the bed, Your Grace." "I prefer that you call me Raphael." When she was this close, pressed against his side, his voice seemed to resonate through her. She glanced at him, startled, but he had his head up, his eyes straight ahead. "Then I will, if that is what you wish." She waited for a sarcastic retort, but he merely shot her a sideways glance before climbing into the bed. He hesitated for a fraction of a second as he was laying his head on the pillow. Had she not been watching- had she not seen the breakdown only minutes before- she would have thought nothing of it. Then it was over and he lay still. "Will you come to bed with me?””

— Elizabeth Hoyt