300 Down, Less than 100 to Go

I have just completed my 300th page on Book Two. This excites me :D I'm probably 3/4 of the way finished, and I'm really looking forward to last 100 pages or so; they're going to be awesome!! In case I haven't mentioned this before, while YF was pretty much entirely from Elysia's P.O.V., Book Two is probably only half of her perspective .... maybe even less. I hate having a book entirely from one person's point of view, so if you hate that too, no worries—I've gotcha covered. Pretty much every character you meet in this book gets at least a paragraph or two from his/her point of view, even the ones who aren't all that important. Why, you ask? Just for the sake of keeping things interesting and letting you see things from both the elves' and the humans' perspectives :) Because who doesn't love getting inside the villains' heads too?? 
      Anyway, in celebration here is a small but fun snippet for you :)

From the Chapter 'Rescue'
       I tripped over something unseen in the darkness and landed on my back in the grass. The breath whooshed from my body and I lay stunned for a moment, my body reacting in pain. Once the throbbing had subsided some, I started to turn over to get up, but froze as I realized that there was the dark shape of a person a few feet away, silent and still, watching me. My heartbeat accelerated wildly, and I gave a small gasp of reaction. 
With a swift movement that was hard to follow in the dark, the person was suddenly next to me, and the cold blade of a knife was pressed to my throat, bringing back terrible memories of the river and the last time I had had a knife at my neck. I tried to lay still so that the blade would not cut my skin, but with my heart beating so hard and blood roaring in my ears, it was hard. 
“Well, look what I have here,” the person said softly, and my breath caught. “A fallen rose. How … convenient.”
It was Roman. 
He jerked me to my feet, being none too gentle, and pushed me back against the rock I had just been standing at a moment earlier. His knife was still at my throat, and now that we were closer to the firelight, I could see his face. He looked so like Lliam that it made me almost want to cry from seeing such a blatant reminder of the man who had saved my life so many times, and who was probably nearby right now. But Lliam could not save me now, I knew that; I was on my own in facing Roman. I could only hope that Roman was in a merciful mood.
But from the look on his face, he was not. 
        I could scarcely breathe, I was so terrified of what was coming next. There was a wild look in Roman’s eyes that, coupled with the light of the flames, made him look slightly demonic, and I was uncomfortably reminded of my dream of the black rider. My chest heaving as I fought to breathe, I waited for Roman to do something.