Narabinai

“Adjusting her frames, Dagmar said, “It’s time for you to stop talking.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But you will stop talking.”
“We’re on my territory now, Beast. You can’t strut around here and pretend you rule all—”
“Quiet.”
“But—”
She raised her right forefinger.
“She—”
Dagmar raised that damn forefinger higher.
“It’s just—”
Now she brandished both forefingers. “Stop.”
He gave Dagmar his best pout, which she completely ignored, turning her back on him to again face Annwyl. “Think there might be some place private we can talk, my lady?”
Gwenvael’s mouth dropped open. “Did you just dismiss—”
Dagmar held up that damn forefinger again but didn’t even bother to look at him when she did.
Annwyl’s grin was wide and bright. A smile Gwenvael hadn’t seen from her in far too long. “Right this way, Lady Dagmar.”
“Thank you.” Dagmar brusquely snapped her fingers at Gwenvael. “And don’t forget to bring my bags up once I get a room, Defiler.”
Annwyl fairly glowed as she followed Dagmar from the room, her smile growing by the second. Gwenvael faced his sister. “It’s Ruiner, which is a vast difference.So get it right!” he yelled at the empty doorway.”
― G.A. Aiken, What a Dragon Should Know

“His debtors always assumed he'd demand their firstborn. Like I'm fucking Rumpelstiltskin? What would Lothaire do with countless squalling babes? Raise them in a kennel?”
― Kresley Cole, Lothaire

“Elizabeth is my happiness, he thought again. “I could hate her for what she did to me.”
“Because of one unsuccessful beheading?” She tapped her claw to her chin. “Wow. I never thought you were such a pussy. I’m rethinking our friendship.”
― Kresley Cole, Lothaire

“Lothaire is very much alive.”
“You swear?”
“Often. Though not as much as foul-mouthed Regin. I try not to in front of Bertil.” She petted the bat.
“I meant—will Lothaire live?”
“He will.”
― Kresley Cole, Lothaire