Finally his head turned slowly, as if feeling her intense gaze.
It's almost as if it is a lifetime goal.
"Thank you," Carmen said as if it were a gift.
She gazed out the window as if she hadn't noticed anything unusual.
It was as if he was mocking her.
It wasn't as if she was going to chase after him.
She was thinking as if she alone were responsible.
Len looked uncomfortable and glanced at Howard as if for support.
It was as if she were talking about someone she didn't know.
As he had pointed out, it wasn't as if she had much of a choice.
A look of pained yearning crossed the girl's face, as if she wanted badly to speak but couldn't.
She looked up at her husband as he began to dress "It's as if she's done something wrong and wants to talk about it but doesn't know how."
Had fate brought her to these people who welcomed her as if she were family?
He did not act as if it was bothering him.
It wasn't as if they could do anything anyway.
He leaned forward, as if to say something in her ear.
Occasionally he glanced behind him, as if searching for someone, or something, that might be watching.
He jumped up, as if he'd seen a ghost.
Betsy looked at her, as if wanting to hear more.
A blue haired old lady with a walker and her mate hauling an oxygen tank looked at me as If I was the Boston strangler.
She opened it and frowned, as if knowing why he was there.
While his form was large enough to be a man the size of Damian's Guardians, his voice was terrified and gravelly, as if he hadn't ever spoken to anyone.
He reached for her, but his scarred hand passed through hers, as if all that remained of him was a ghost of the man he'd been.
His head remained shoved under a pillow, and his body relaxed, as if he were falling back asleep.
He was silent, as if watching.
He placed her on the table and retreated, shaking his head and swiping at the air around him, as if plagued by bees.
She turned her naked body away from the glare and his eyes, as if expecting to be hit.
Dulce stared at her for a moment, as if considering it for the first time.
The train crouched silent on the tracks in a feline pose, as if hovering over a kill.
Giddon paid no attention to the three at the pool, patting Diablo's nose and talking softly to him as if no one was around.
It wasn't as if she had any part in becoming that way, nor did it make her a better person.
For a few minutes they held on to each other, kissing as if they hadn't seen each other in a week.
A touch of humor lurked in Señor Medena's dark eyes, but he continued as if he didn't notice.
It was almost as if he were shutting Felipa off before she could reveal something.
Felipa tipped her head to the side, as if she was considering that information.
Both were watching her as if she had something earth-shattering to say.
It wasn't as if he had to be there every living minute of his life.
He said they as if the horses belonged to the ranch hands.
We all knew about his family, but the way he acted, it was as if he wanted to hide them from us.
"Certainly," she replied as if it were a social visit.
Everyone was staring at her as if they expected her to faint or something.
The facts drifted in slowly, as if attending a dreaded meeting.
Her knees were trembling as if they were going to give way at any moment, and her face felt devoid of blood.
He patted the ATV as if it were alive.
Even so, it was as if a something had been lifted from her chest, allowing the flow of oxygen and blood to a starving brain.
The last word ended on the upturn, as if it were a question, not a statement.
He waved a hand as if to brush her inquest off.
They reached an open place in the brush where Diablo stood hip-shod, his eyes half closed - as if all hell wasn't getting ready to burst loose.
In spite of his size, his steps were light, as if he chose every one carefully.
It was simple enough to wander around outside, as if she were looking for something.
He continued as if he didn't hear.
Adrienne screamed, cramming her foot into the floor as if she, too, had a break pedal.
Mrs. Marsh glared at the papers, as if they were to blame for the situation.
For one brief instant, he looked at Adrienne as if he actually saw her.
The hours were perfect, nine to five, and the job sounded as if it were tailored for her.
It wasn't as if that was the most important part, so why did it hurt the most?
She continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.
He killed Mom, just the same as if he'd plunged a knife into her heart.
After all he had done, he dared talk to her as if she were a child.
Even the animals were quiet, as if they knew danger lurked in the darkness.
His expression was bland – his voice unemotional, as if he were discussing the weather.
Mary studied her reflectively and finally spoke in a hushed tone, as if she didn't actually want to know the answer to her question.
Cade looked as if he'd been slapped.
And Cade had become more solemn in the last few weeks, as if he sensed her dilemma and felt uncomfortable as well.
He tucked her under the covers as if she were a child.
He rode as if he were part of the horse, his lean body swaying with the stride of the graceful animal.
He paused, as if searching for a tasteful word.
Quinn stood, as if addressing a class of incoming freshmen.
It's as if the town died.
My acquiescence lightened the mood for the remainder of the trip as Betsy and Howie chatted as if future sessions were a faite accompli.
I feel as if I'm spying.
Then he started feeling guilty, as if he was doing something wrong.
Then he said, 'you guys have this history when you were kids,' as if he was left out.
His name is Merrill Cooms, Brennan stated, sounding as if I should know the man.
Now enrolled in college, he was dressing the part, as if trying to fit in.
She looked to Howie before answering, as if looking for direction.
"It's not the big deal it was at first," Howie offered, as if apologizing.
We all are, as if we let him slip away.
She just shrugged again, as if it wasn't her concern.
When Martha was in a session with Howie, Betsy took over, coveting the child as if she were her own.
She looked at me as if I was the psychic!
I asked her, as if it was business as usual.
"Not at seventeen," Julie said quickly, and then looked as if she wished she'd not been so outspoken.
Molly appeared less shy around Howie than us, acting more casual toward him as if he was a member of her family.
He in turn, looked at her as if a princess was visiting his humble abode.
Martha came in with baby Clair looking as if she'd gotten over what ailed her.
It's not as if you just learned it?
Molly shrugged her shoulders, as if she were being scolded.
Martha shook her head, as if looking for more.
My head throbbed and my side felt as if a car, no, an SUV were parked on me.
I parked by the horse shoe pits and ambled down the road, as if out for a woodland stroll.
I don't know why she asked me; it didn't appear as if I had a say in the matter.
The three of us packed for three days only, as if so limiting our clothing changes would force our return more quickly.
They both spoke as if what said was oft repeated.
The pastor continued as if we hadn't taken nearly a three hour break, mostly continuing his sermon.
she continued as if I hadn't spoken.
He turned and returned to the hospital, as if glad to be rid of me.
It was as if I hadn't had time to come to grips with that tragedy with the world wind swirling around me.
He hadn't changed a thing, as if expecting Papa to come home at any minute.
He was dressed in black but not in SWAT gear, as if he knew nothing in this world could hurt him.
The sun lingered on the horizon, as if waiting for the closing clouds.
From his shoulders to his chest to his flat midsection, every part of him looked as if he'd been carefully carved from stone.
This man's look was considering, as if he were trying to memorize her features in case he needed the information in the future.
Her cheek was red as if she'd been struck, and there were tears on her face already.
She didn't move the entire trip back to the condo, as if afraid he'd blow her head off next.
He rolled his eyes, as if repeating something he heard regularly.
The scars ran all the way through his hand, as if it had been chopped up and put back together.
He looked up, a surprised expression crossing his face, as if he'd told her something he wasn't supposed to.
He was hugging Sunny as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered.
She was fully a part of him when they touched, as if he'd been missing more than a piece of his soul all these years and just now realized it.
She looked unsettled at the idea of leaving her lab and looked around, as if trying to figure out what to take.
His tone was unassuming, but his gaze was intent, as if he were trying to gauge if she recognized him or not.
He'd given her his necklace, as if marking her as his.
He felt compelled towards them, as if whatever it was he was supposed to do had to be done with one in front of him.
Jonny looked apprehensive yet resigned, as if he'd known this was coming.
The room was otherwise arranged as if for a wedding with two sets of neatly lined chairs on either side of a long aisle.
Raindrops fell as if in slow motion, and lightning stayed, brighter than the midday sun.
Darian's voice came as if across a great distance and echoed around the room.
His eyes found Bianca, who stood shivering in the rain, staring towards the fire, as if waiting for Jonny to reappear.
Even then his gaze was haunted, as if he somehow knew his fate.
She made a show of resting her coat across the table, as if to say she wasn't leaving, and crossed to the small hall that contained the restrooms.
Why, then, was he starting to feel as if he'd been set up?
It now felt like it had when she was in the alley: as if he were standing beside her.
Darian cocked his head to the side, as if hearing someone call his name.
His sword defended him as if possessed, yet when he went to strike, he found his blows ill timed and clumsy.
The sense that had told her where he was intensified within her, as if they were close enough for their souls to touch again.
A strange energy ran between them, as if she could absorb the faint stream of his magic.
His first kiss was light, as if he were testing her.
Feeling as if she'd said too much, she turned and fled the cottage for her car and locked the doors.
It appears as if either you, Damian, or you, Jonny, sent someone to kill her.
His gaze narrowed, as if about to accuse her of lying.
His gaze drew distant, as if he were remembering something dark.
She frowned at his tone, as if he considered her the newest, permanent member of his organization and not the guest she was.
It wasn't like the Magician's magic, which somehow fused with his, as if they were one person sharing one source of power.
Instead of answering, she raised her arm and steadied her breath, as if she were holding a handgun.
The harder she concentrated, the louder Jule's heartbeat grew, as if their bodies were pressed together again.
It was as if small objects had been buried in the ground, and their weak magic was muffled.
The Other's bedchamber had been empty, as if the otherworldly creature was permanently gone.
It, too, was empty, as if the Other had fled and was taking Yully with him.
His golden eyes were calm, and he was dressed as if he'd just finished sparring.
The vamp hadn't moved, as if he and Sofi already knew Jule would facilitate.
Sofi dropped her hand, and the vamp remained still, as if letting her magic settle.
Her father's voice warbled as if through water.
Instead, she prepared for the day as if it were her last.
The magic took hold of her, and she danced away from his strikes as if they were in slow motion.
Her hair glowed as if it were on fire, and she floated, her slender form clad in simple leggings and a tunic.
Jonny glanced at Jenn, as if noticing for the first time that she wasn't armed.
Yully left the gym, feeling as if she'd entered a new world.
It struck a chord deep within her, as if she should know it.
The Watcher's eyes went around his study, as if this was his first visit in a great while.
A deeper ache, as if she had the flu and every muscle in her body was on fire, was made worse by sleeping on the cold floor.
Han asked, extending his hand as if approaching a wounded animal.
This one clung to him as if he were the only thing preventing her from being swept overboard.
His crying and shifting distracted her from the strange world around her and made her head pulse, as if he were trying to pry his way into her unwilling mind.
His visions were more than just his death; they were the first-person experience of the torturing and killing of many, many others, as if she were mutilating others.
She blinked, shocked when he walked through the man with the green eyes as if he weren't there.
His voice was as clear in her mind as if he spoke the words.
"You need something?" he asked with a casualness that pissed her off, as if he didn't know why she was there.
Sofia forced her own smile, noticing how Claire's gaze swept over her as if she were an uninvited insect in her bedroom.
He rose, as if on autopilot, turned, and faced the window.
Sofia hung up the phone, feeling as if she were emerging from a stupor for the first time in months.
He said nothing, and she saw the look that crossed his face, as if he wasn't sure what to make of it.
She shook her head as if he were the fool.
He stood and watched it burn, feeling as if a part of him burned with it.
The brunette stood between Traci and Rainy, as if she were trying to broker a peace deal between two warring countries.
He no longer needed to feel as if he still dwelt in the shadow of Darian's death.
The front door was open, as if they were expecting her.
Damian appeared, a fragmented vision, as if the vamp had been peering through a foggy window.
His voice was weak, as if he were far away.
The rest was blocked, as if a dam was placed there.
He cocked his head to the side, as if listening to someone.
Sofia held onto him as if his life depended on it and shook her head to clear the dizziness.
She turned to see his gaze on the ground, his body braced as if for a blow.
She reached a stairwell and descended to a floor with wider, taller corridors, as if she'd gone from the wing with private chambers to a more public area.
She almost felt as if she was … drugged?
He had a heartbeat, one that reverberated through her as if it was her own.
She felt as if she hadn't just eaten a large breakfast.
She was surprised to find the idea of tasting him didn't repulse her, as if the intimate bond with him was natural.
His head was bowed near hers, eyes closed, as if he was…pleased to share the moment with her.
He handled weapons as if they were extensions of his body, never dropping them or misplacing a strike.
The chilly ocean breeze made her dress move as if it was alive, and she swiped at the pink hair blinding her.
"Don't be such a cry baby," he muttered, holding the flashlight out in front as if to see inches more of what lay before them.
"Just colder," she added with a shiver, as if to apology for the crack in her voice.
Mrs. Lincoln, the Deans' cat, strolled into the room and rubbed the young girl's leg as if to ask what was the problem.
He gobbled everything he could grab as if building energy for the balance of his coast-to-coast trek.
It was as if God had taken the boy to heaven.
She was red-eyed, as if sleep had eluded her.
Then she added, We've always treated you exactly the same as if we were your natural parents.
They look as if someone slept in them.
It was as if she was being forced to divulge what she wanted to tell but had promised not to.
Martha rose and began to pace across the room, putting one foot toe to heel in front of the other, as if walking a tight rope.
He smiled, as if he were kidding.
Toward dawn, her conversation became fixed on the skeleton-man she'd discovered in the depths of the mine as if he too was a forever forgotten soul, equally immersed in lonely darkness.
It was as if rescuing these long forgotten remains from oblivion would somehow prove such a resurrection from years of absolute dark and loneliness would make anything possible.
After embarrassed apologies, she seemed compelled to sit down and chat, as if idle conversation might be penance for the pilfered peach pie.
Cynthia agreed and as if in penance, gathered up plates and coffee cups while Westlake assembled his equipment.
It wasn't as if he was around much when he was in town, so an empty place at the table just meant an extra potato.
On her way down the hall, she paused at Martha's room and peeked in, as if hoping some memory of the child remained.
He felt Randy's pain as if it were his own.
But it's not as if I took advantage of Jen— it was a mistake.
Certainly. It's not as if they don't have a mutual interest in this business.
She stood on the front porch, puffing on her cigarette as if sucking in a lung full of chemicals might somehow help matters.
She paused, as if hesitating to confide, until her anger overcame her reticence.
It doesn't seem as if we're taking this business of getting you elected very seriously.
"Fitzgerald was a state guy over in Denver," Fred grumbled, as if reluctant to let go of his pet theory.
But they didn't sound as if they had a clue about what was going on.
It looks as if they were kind enough to just let the air out—not slash them.
Cynthia leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes while Brandon Westlake acted as if he were taking a Sunday afternoon ride in the park.
Cynthia looked as if she considered joining him but caution prevailed.
Dean's arm felt as if he'd taken on half the World Wrestling Federation.
"Kids," the woman said, as if that answered all the questions plaguing Dean's mind.
The woman let out her breath, as if exhaling a cigarette.
It doesn't smell as if it was cleaned or preserved.
Dean felt as if he might be getting somewhere, at least in identifying Martha's bones.
When he spoke, it didn't sound as if either beer was his first.
It's as if they might have been switched—from a real skeleton.
In the eyes of the Deans, it was looking more and more as if person or persons unknown did in fact take the original bones and switch them for the theatrical imitations Fitzgerald dragged out of The Lucky Pup mine.
The cat declined a lap-offer in favor of the purple rocker, Martha's chair, as if to question the whereabouts of her missing friend.
Someone had a campfire and it looked as if the door on the mine was used for fire wood.
Instead, he rose—a suggestion they go inside—but Cynthia and Mrs. Lincoln were content together, as if oblivious to Pumpkin and Westlake.
He talked to me as if I were a real person, not just a skirt he was plotting to lift.
It was as if Jennifer hadn't heard.
It sounds as if your marriage was very happy.
"It sounds as if you were very fortunate in your choice of a husband," Dean said honestly, but he noted she'd failed to answer his earlier question.
Paul Dawkins wiped his face with his hand and looked at Dean as if to ask if he were serious.
The two women chatted amicably, as if they'd known one another for a lifetime, with Cynthia pointing out the sights with a running line of commentary.
He smiled hesitantly, as if caught with the last piece of pie.
"Great to see you up here, Jennifer!" he said as he recovered, sounding almost as if he meant it.
He made the entire trip up without seeing another vehicle, and the lords of luck were with him—Jennifer Radisson's camera was sitting in the crevice of a rock as if it were waiting for him.
It was only moments later when his fears were realized by the gnashing, booming, ripping sound of metal on rock, echoing across the valley like a clap of thunder, repeating and repeating, as if car after car had met a similar fate, further and further away.
The rough track he followed ceased to exist, as if the vehicle had become airborne in its terrible fall.
She did it gently, as if not to disturb the victim.
He thought she might be sleeping, but her place was ablaze with lights, and she met him at the door as if expecting him.
She paused, as if waiting for a comment, but he gave none.
It sounded as if she expected him to be on the mountain.
It's not as if I wasn't in police work long enough to know that, but Billy's death was such a god-awful waste of a young life.
Fitzgerald looked as if he'd found a Captain Midnight ring in his cereal.
She peered behind them, as if searching to see if he'd been followed.
Ginger Dawkins was sitting on the porch in her pretty blue sweater as if she'd never huffed and puffed her exit a day earlier.
It did sound as if the Dawkins boys' temporary peace had come to an end, but Dean paid little heed to the raised voices.
Lydia put her hand on his knee, as if Cynthia were not in the room.
Lydia rose as if to stop him.
She took short breaths, as if it hurt to talk.
Cynthia continued to cling to Martha as if letting go would somehow cause the child to disappear.
Mrs. Lincoln slipped into the room amid throaty sounds of welcome and hopped onto Martha's lap as calmly as if she'd never left.
Cynthia asked, as if reading his mind.
It was as if standing still would change the news.
"He has a gun," Cynthia said, as if hesitant to speak in front of the young girl.
"Please tell us," Cynthia asked, her voice as gentle as if she were speaking to a child.
Westlake looked at it, as if seeing it for the first time.
She hesitated, as if waiting for him to say more.
He definitely never would've spoken to her like this, as if … …as if he was Death and she was not.
Back and forth, back and forth, in a way that left her skin tingling and her feeling as if she was falling under some sort of spell.
The door to the secret library was open, as if Tamer expected him.
Andre was seated, as if he'd never moved.
He was like a massive shadow among the sunny forest, dressed all in black and armed as if for battle, even when coming to see her.
Deidre felt the pain again, the one without a physical source but which she felt as if a knife was piercing her soul.
The graceful Immortal was in the study, hands folded in his hands, as if waiting for him.
He turned as if to leave then stopped.
Darkyn spoke as if he intended for her to remain that way, at least through the end of the deal.
The movements seemed to start there, circle around the lake then drop, as if there was an invisible wall.
Deidre stared at him as if deciding whether she wanted to be angry or disappointed.
She made love to him as if she'd waited her life for the moment.
She cried as if she was losing him.
The faded signs of massive scarring were on one side of her neck while there was blood on the other, as if someone had just hurt her.
He was dressed as if he'd just come from some club, all in leather with his blond hair in a braid.
The ocean breeze made her dress move as if it was alive, and her pink hair swept across her features.
It sounded as if she'd already won, which meant his mate had lost.
His eyes fell to a toaster on the dresser with two socks resting beside it, as if waiting for their turn to warm her feet in the morning.
Darkyn's mate blinked rapidly, as if near tears.
But she couldn't help feeling as if she'd never truly known the man she loved until someone else told her what she missed.
It sounded as if half a legion of armed Immortals was chasing someone through the fortress.
Alex replaced the receiver and leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his face as if to remove the conversation.
It wasn't as if he had anything to be ashamed of.
Several times the telephone rang and he hurried to answer it as if he were expecting a call.
He grinned at her and waved as if he knew who she was.
The last word was upturned, as if it were a question.
Time slowed down, and it was as if everything was in slow motion.
Her stomach felt as if it were trying to crawl out her mouth.
She held on to his hand, as if keeping him from falling off a cliff.
She shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.
Carmen stared at the spot, her heart going out to it as if Alex still lay there.
He lifted her hand as if to kiss it, but did not.
It wasn't as if she made no effort.
His gaze was intense, as if he wanted to tell her something.
He was watching her, as if contemplating what she said.
His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile.
His attention returning to the lap desk, he picked up the pencil as if ready to write something - and then put it down.
It wasn't as if he could take it off.
It wasn't as if Alex was restricted, so why didn't the doctor tell him?
But it's as if he doesn't even see me now.
He paused a moment, staring at the screen as if it might respond.
You shuddered when I touched you, as if you were afraid.
His fingers poised over the keys several times as if he were going to type more.
He rolled his eyes, as if having to dispense the information were pointless.
The other half of his face was stuck in the shadows, giving him a surreal appearance, as if he had one foot in a different world.
The sound was rough, as if he didn't laugh often.
He was looking at her, as if he already knew.
The desire lighting her body was hot and aching, as if her body innately knew how well he'd satisfy her.
Or whatever, she paused, as if waiting for his response, before continuing.
He stepped back from the desk, as if fearing the compass would claim his soul right there.
Gabe's step slowed as he neared the man dressed in a white shirt held closed by two buttons and cream linen pants rolled to his knees, as if he'd been walking in the ocean.
Something about him touched her on a level that left her feeling at peace, as if he, too, understood what it was to face death each day and struggle to see the light instead of the surrounding darkness.
His body was stiff, as if he wasn't used to hugging her.
She found herself comparing him to the stranger, whose body had molded around hers, as if he was made for her and no one else.
There were handprints on the windows, as if someone had tried to escape, and blood splattered on the ceiling and the walls.
Her shoulders were still hunched, as if she waited for him to hack off her head.
One of them was brighter than the others, as if trying to draw her attention.
His collection of antiques was unrivaled and perfectly coordinated, as if he'd meandered through history to hand-pick them.
His head was titled to the side, as if he was trying to determine what was wrong with her.
He regarded her for a long moment, as if assessing if she was going to run or cry, then closed the door.
He was so calm, as if they were negotiating over a car and not eternity together.
A temporary sensation entered her mind, as if a breeze ruffled through her thoughts.
Tamer hadn't bothered to put on a shirt, appearing as if he'd leapt out of bed the moment the wards alerted him.
There was no human color in the woman's pale cheeks, and her expression was emotionless, as if carved from marble.
He waited, as if she'd reveal enough dirt to make his monthly quota then added, They'll probably suspend your license.
He was dressed in worn clothing and shoes and flattened his palms against the window, as if he'd never been on a train before.
She opened the door, and he strode in as if he owned the place.
She took it all in, feeling as if she'd stepped into the Twilight Zone, and followed Toby down the hall.
His clothing was thick and heavy this night, as if he expected to be standing outside her window until dawn.
The sobbing, slender creature tensed and covered his head, as if expecting an attack from above.
He picked up what looked like a medical file and became as still as the death dealer, as if forgetting her presence completely.
She didn't miss Hannah's stunned look, as if it were a miracle her homely sister could catch the eye of anyone!
Their surroundings looked as if someone had left a fog machine on too long in a gym.
Fury lit her insides at his calm words, as if he wasn't responsible for destroying her life!
Its skin was porcelain pale, as if it never saw sunlight.
He said nothing more, as if unwilling to say more until the identity verification was done.
Rhyn smashed himself against the cell, as if to prove his strength.
He sat on a boulder near the entrance, as if he were the bouncer trying to prevent someone like her from exiting.
"I've claimed you as my blood slave," he said, as if reading her mind.
He changed mechanically, as if accustomed to removing bloody clothing several times a day.
She wondered what it took for an immortal to look as if he'd been through Hell and back.
His gaze lingered on her, as if he smelled her perfume and was trying hard to identify it.
Kris relaxed, as if expecting a refusal.
"You need only say my name, and I'll come to you," he grated at last, as if the words cost him a hefty bet.
One of the portals flickered as if in response.
"You're his mate," she said at last, as if this should mean more than it did.
He didn't give a damn about her, and he sounded as if he'd rather she jump from a cliff than bother him.
"Rhyn is our…guest," Kris said, as if eating glass shards.
"Katie," Ully hissed, as if they were kids hiding under the porch and not in the obvious line of sight of everyone in the room.
"You're…" Megan trailed off, as if debating what to say while trying to figure out what was standing in front of her.
She was scared to turn around, almost as if afraid he'd be passing out his phone number to every lithe, beautiful Amazonian they passed.
Five sets of predatory eyes fell to her, as if realizing there was a lame lamb in their midst.
She bristled, feeling as if she'd been sentenced to nothing more than a sewing circle for good little wives.
His voice grew hushed, as if the all-important guests behind each door might hear him.
She roamed the apartment again and opened all the closets and drawers, not surprised to find them filled, as if she'd lived there all her life and hadn't just arrived.
The maître d' looked at her skeptically, as if the woman passing in a revealing Middle Eastern belly dancing costume ahead of her was normal and jeans were not.
His gaze slid to the floor, and he shook his head ever so slightly, as if trying to shake free an unpleasant thought.
She looked as if she wanted to say something, then crossed her arms with a glare.
She was struck by his words, feeling as if the one person she relied upon was not only running out on her but would chop her into pieces the next time she saw him.
Her bed looked as if a flock of geese had combusted over it, and she counted at least ten dead pillows.
Two mugs, as if she were expecting company or someone else was already there.
Ully emerged from the castle, hair mussed and dressed as if for a run.
He looked at the jaguar again and took another two tiny steps, as if testing her resolve to ground him.
Following him was Kris, dressed in nothing but judo pants, as if Ully had dragged him straight out of bed.
A tremor of fear went through her, and Ully crept closer, as if she had half a chance of defending them.
"Thanks," she said and left, feeling as if the timing couldn.t be worse for her sister to show up.
Lankha.s head hung, as if he walked to his death.
The healer sank next to her on the bed, large eyes darting around the room as if he expected the furniture to grow fangs and chase him.
Without him, Kris felt as if he were alone trying to solve the world.s problems.
Sasha sat before the hearth, as if deep in thought.
"Kris has me slaving away," Ully whispered, looking around as if Kris was around the corner.
Kris was frozen in place, as if not yet registering what had happened.
He looked as if he.d survived a run-in with a blender.
The sound came from behind it, as if someone were trying to open the door.
Even at such a young age, Rhyn.s features were troubled and somber, as if he knew what kind of a life awaited him.
She whipped around to see Kris standing in the doorway, holding the door open as if debating whether to enter.
Jade shook his head, feeling as if madness born of desperation were creeping into his mind with the pain.
Rhyn wasn.t coming back for her, yet her heart felt as if it.d fall out of her chest.
The bump sounded again, as if someone ran into it.
Jade shook his head, as if tormented by his own thoughts.
His heart felt as if it stopped.
He felt as if he stood outside his body, watching the world around him.
He wore heavy clothing, as if easily chilled, and moved with the smoothness of a warrior.
And yet, he couldn't help feeling as if he alone bore the weight of his planet on his back as he struggled to pay for food, water, and weapons.
He was naked, as if awaiting her.
The smaller woman was still, as if afraid to move.
She wondered if she had died, for she seemed able to see the conversation occurring from a dozen feet away, as if she were watching television instead of involved in it.
The strange fever remained, making her feel as if she'd been sitting in a sauna for hours.
The heat of his large hands made her feel as if she wore no clothing.
Her eyes strayed to the closet, as if wondering if Kiera found the boxes.
He was studying her closely, as if awaiting something.
It was as his father had told him, as if the suns burned a hole straight through his head and the ground beneath him shook.
He'd been fighting, but tucked the sword behind his body, as if to protect Talal from it.
Her mind was too busy, and she felt as if she hovered on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Talal gasped, as if she'd never seen anyone cry, and took a step back.
The tiny specs indicating crafts or personnel in the 3D image moved and changed; the image itself spun slowly, as if to present her with all sides of the battle at once.
Over a period of a week, the tactics had gone from infantile to novice to advanced, as if someone were learning the intricacies of battle planning.
He took them, eyeing them as if they'd bite him.
She stood, as if to tell him their conversation was over.
He gazed at her, as if awaiting a refusal.
His every look was penetrating, as if he sought to capture her thoughts whenever she crossed his path.
A'Ran awaited her with two swords looking alert, as if he'd been up long enough for his first cup of coffee to kick in.
The training had been nothing but politely professional, as if she were another student.
Nishani started with small adjustments to the battle before her, as if testing for the results of her decisions.
She paused, as if searching for the right words, then continued.
She suspected both meeting the clan heads and the announcement to be big deals for a people with such rigid traditions, but A'Ran looked as if he were discussing the whereabouts of her translator.
He nodded curtly, as if expecting the response.
He trailed, as if uncertain he wanted to follow at all.
Her heart fluttered at his words, and she grew excited about him wanting the type of relationship like she'd drawn, until she saw him fumbling with the page as if to pull it free.
It was a planet, dusty red, as if it were nothing but dry desert.
The air was dry and hot, as if she were in a sauna.
She cried until too tired to cry more, then leaned against the pod, feeling as if her skin was frying despite the shade.
The warriors before her looked as if they'd just been released from some sort of meeting.
The flower moved as if caught in a breeze, not an earthquake.
She looked at each of the warriors, who watched the water as if they'd never seen it before.
His voice was even, as if he tried to ease some of the weight of her decision.
His tone didn't change, as if she'd just told him she was going shopping instead of sacrificing the rest of her life for his people.
A'Ran heard Mansr's words as if in a dream.