Riven

"You killed them," Frey whispered. "You killed... all of them.""They deserved it. They dared to touch you. You are mine, and I won't suffer even my own countrymen to lay a hand on you.""Jesus Christ," Frey muttered under her breath. Susurrus reached out, gripped her chin in his hand, careful not to mar her skin with the sharp claws at the ends of his fingers. He tilted her head with an insistent force far, far gentler than he could have exerted, and pressed the side of his thumb against her lips to silence her."If you're going to pray," he said, his voice a low, guttural sound, almost a purr but filled with far too much fury to qualify, "I suggest you pray to me."