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- "Us?" says Olivia. "Oh, what a poor little doggie." A pirouette disguises her coming lunge, and Arlinn parries with her forearm a moment too late. Olivia drives the sword's tip into Arlinn's chest with wicked delight. Metal grinds against Arlinn's collarbone as Olivia cups her cheek. "You're all alone here."
- Arlinn's not sure which is worse—the pain, now rising past the point of ignorance, or Olivia's hateful voice. Red swims at the corners of her vision. The wolf within her cries out for freedom. Arlinn won't heed it, not now. She has to keep a clear head.
- THE WEDDING CRASHERS
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