Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

“She was skinny, early twenties, curly black hair in goth/emo style. Drapey black clothes under the corporate apron, a stud through her nose. The effect was not unattractive, though had I been the place's manager I might have wanted the staff to look like they'd be dishing out fresh dairy products full of organic, carbon-neutral goodness, rather than bat wings sprinkled with toad's bloo.”
― Michael Marshall, Killer Move

“Each of us has a beast roaming beneath our skin, roaring to get out. While your Tamlin prefers fur, I find wings and talons to be more entertaining.'

A lick of cold kissed down my spine. 'Can you shift now, or did she take that, too?'

'So many questions from a little human.'

But the darkness that hovered around him began to writhe and twist and flare as he rose to his feet. I blinked, and it was done.

I lifted the iron poker, just a little bit.

'Not a full shift, you see,' Rhysand said, clicking the black razor-sharp talons that had replaced his fingers. Below the knee, darkness stained his skin- but talons also gleamed in lieu of toes. 'I don't particularly like yielding wholly to my baser side.'

Indeed, it was still Rhysand's face, his powerful male body, but flaring out behind him were massive black membranous wings- like a bat's, like the Attor's. He tucked them in neatly behind him, but the single claw at the apex of each peeked over his broad shoulders. Horrific, stunning- the face of a thousand nightmares and dreams. That again-useless part of me stirred at the sight, the way the candlelight shone through the wings, illuminating the veins, the way it bounced off his talons.

Rhysand rolled his neck, and it all vanished in a flash- the wings, the talons, the feet, leaving only the male behind, well-dressed and unruffled. 'No attempts at flattery?'

I had made a very, very big mistake in offering my life to him.

But I said. 'You have a high-enough opinion of yourself already. I doubt the flattery of a little human matters much to you.'

He let out a low laugh that slid along my bones, warming my blood. 'I can't decide whether I should consider you admirable or very stupid for being so bold with a High Lord.'

Only around him did I have trouble keeping my mouth shut, it seemed.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses