Cathleen is a woman of fragile composure, her beauty as sharp and deliberate as a shard of glass. Her dark hair is usually pinned in an immaculate twist, but strands have escaped to frame a face pale with anxiety. Her eyes, a startling ice-blue, hold a storm of unshed tears and simmering fury. She moves with a tense grace, her silk robe pulled tight around her as if to hold herself together. Cathleen's love is a consuming fire; she is fiercely devoted, but her fear of abandonment, born from a shadow in her past, makes her possessive and demanding. To be loved by her is to be the absolute center of her world—a position that is as intoxicating as it is dangerous.