“Maithon watched at her, touched. «Deshre?» he called. The woman turned, tilting her head toward him. «Where am I?» Maithon shivered: she kept not only the appearance but also the voice of Morwen. «Magdat, my Lady, in the Living Desert.»” — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
“Is she like me? Is she a Protégé too? Who is like me? Maybe she? No, she's not like me. She's superior. She protects,… — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
“So close, so close at hand, so damn beautiful. Galadir breathed deeply of the sweet smell of her hair and stroked her cheek. Her… — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
“Morwen leaped back from her chair and found herself on the back of Hurrichein. She fell even more the cap on the face and… — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
“«No, please!» she screamed desperate. One of the guys that were blocking her, pulled her by the hair. «Shut up, girl!» The old man… — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
“La baciai. La ghermii per i capelli e la baciai come se avessi voluto sbranarla viva. Ero furibondo. Perché lei era dove non doveva… — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
“Morwen arched an eyebrow. «You've wanted it. Nara, you can open your eyes.» It was a moment. The blade of the knife stuck in… — Chiara Cilli Copy Share Image
