How’s Her Royal Bitchiness?” “Alive.” “Pity.
I think Illium can take care of himself.” “Not if he keeps flirting with you.” A fine, almost elegant tendril of heat, champagne and sunshine, decadence in the light. “Raphael’s not the sharing kind.
You don't fear me," he said now. She wasn't stupid enough to lie. "I'm petrified. But I figure you didn't make me come all this way just so you could push me off the roof.
I will fight you endlessly if I think you're wrong but I will never judge you.
Is your skin this tone all over?" "Only one way you're going to discover the answer to that.
"So decisive", he murmured in that calm tone that had adrenaline flooding her body, the primitive part of her brain conscious she was in the presence of a predator. "Got your eye on someone?" She didn‘t know what made her say it. "No. But I have no plans to die a virgin."
A naked blade sheathed in velvet, that was Raphael's voice.
He'd kill for her, destroy for her, savage anyone who dared attempt to take her from him. And he would never let her go...even if she begged for her freedom.
There is a dark music in the screams of your enemies.” (Raphael)
She dumped me for the quarterback after she'd played my body like a banjo. So Sad." "I bet" "I'm serious. I was heartbroken." "For how long?" "A whole week." An eternity in the life of a teenage boy.
This was the kind of job that made legends out of hunters. Of course, to be a legend, you generally had to be dead.
I might not be Silent any longer, but I still have the perfect poker face.
One thing I've always wondered—why did you enter that bikini contest when you were a teenager?” Her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “How far back did you trace me?” “Far enough.” A pause. “You didn't answer my question.” “And you didn't turn into a puff of smoke and disappear. The world is full of disappointments.
After they were both done, the pile of knives and guns on the coffee table looked like they’d cleaned out an armory. “I think we have a problem, Dmitri.
Contact would hurt, might be fatal, and yet she couldn’t stop herself. Obsession or compulsion, she didn’t know, but she did know that before this was over, she’d either end up in Dmitri’s bed . . . or one of them would bleed darkest red.
You are mine, Elena. If you choose to sleep in another bed, I will simply pick you up and bring you home.
You’ll hate me,” she said, her arms locked around him because she couldn’t not hold him when he was close. “One day, you’ll hate me.” It was the thing she most feared. Hand fisting in her hair, he pressed his forehead to her own, his eyes night-glow in the dark. “I will love you until the day they put me in the earth.
There was a very slight chance she might actually kill him that way, and if she did, she’d be brought up on charges. Unless, of course, she could prove harmful intent. She could see it now. See, Your Honor, he was going to f*ck me silly, make me like it.
Zach. You can only call me Mr. Quinn when you're angry.
No more chances, Golden Eyes. You’re mine and I’ll draw blood to enforce my claim.
Her voice trembled. "I’m so glad you’re mine. I won’t ever let you go." This time, it was Kaleb who said, "I know," devastated at being so wanted. "You are just a little possessive."
All right." Shimmering droplets on her eyelashes, stars caught in transition. "But will you replace it with something for me?" "Anything." His body was hers. Brushing her fingers over his lips, she said, "You gave me an eagle. I want to give you one, too." A tender kiss pressed to the scar. "I want us to fly together.
You chose a warrior, remember?” “As you chose an archangel.
You're not a restful individual to be around" Ashaya to Dorian
It’s Adria’s face I see when I think of home.
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