" Rain falls steadily outside and dampens my leg. I shiver at the cold night air and the breeze on my bare arms. I’m about to drop down into the space between the bushes and the wall when a hand closes around my wrist.
It’s Gavin, and he looks furious. ‘You intend to go out there?’ he asks. ‘And you can’t even see them, can you?’
I try to pull myself from his grip, but he only tightens his hold. ‘I never said I could.’
‘You implied it.’
‘I’m un-implying it now.’ I grin. ‘I have other means.’
Gavin studies me intently. ‘Did you choose this?’
Leaning in close, I press my cheek against his, a touch that goes against every social rule I’ve ever been taught. It’s the excitement of the hunt that courses through me, a savage hum. I’m beyond propriety, beyond etiquette.
‘I revel in it. "
― Elizabeth May , The Falconer (The Falconer, #1)