“Have you ever had a moment where you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you were in the right place? That you were on the right journey? Maybe the sense that you’d crossed a boundary, jumped a hurdle, and somehow, after facing some unconquerable mountain, found yourself suddenly on the other side of it? When the night was warm and the wind was cool, and a song carried through the quiet streets around you. When you felt the entire world around you, and you were part of it—of the hum of it—and everything was good.Contentment, I suppose, is the simple explanation for it. But it seems more than that, thicker than that, some unity of purpose, some sense of being truly, honestly, for that moment, at home.Those moments never seem to last long enough. The song ends, the breeze stills, the worries and fears creep in again and you’re left trying to move forward, but glancing back at the mountain behind you, wondering how you managed to cross it, afraid you really didn’t—that the bulk and shadow over your shoulder might evaporate and re-form before you, and you’d be faced with the burden of crossing it again.The song ends, and you stare at the quiet, dark house in front of you, and you grasp the doorknob, and walk back into your life.”

“You drugged me,”“I didn’t want you to feel it, Merit.” His voice was soft. “You’d been attacked; you hadn’t consented. I didn’t want you to have to go through it. I didn’t want you to have to remember it.”

“Can you at least pretend to be professional today?”Lindsey stopped, glanced back at Luc. “You show me professional, and I’llshow you professional.”Luc snorted, but his expression was gleeful. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t knowprofessional if it bit you on the ass.”“I prefer my bites in other places.”“Is that an invitation?”“If only you were so lucky, cowboy.”“Lucky? Hooking up with me would be the luckiest day of your life, Blondie.”

“You undo me, Merit. Wholly and completely. You don't take me at my word. You challenge me at every opportunity. And that means when I'm with you, I am less than the head of this House...and I am more than the head of this House. I am a man." He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs. "In my very, very long life, I need you more than I have ever needed anything.”

“You cannot seriously think you’re going to fight this guy. He could kick your ass with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He’s probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. Hell, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats.”We simultaneously looked over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeing off his black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across his shoulders.God, but he was beautiful.I narrowed my gaze.Beautiful but evil. Wicked. The repugnant dregs of foul malevolence. Or something.“Jesus,” Mallory whispered. “I want to support your quest for revenge and all, but maybe you should just let him glamour you.” She looked at me, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “Either you’re fucked, or you’re fucked, right?”

“Have you ever had one of those days where you give up on being really clean, and settle for being largely clean? Where you don't have time for the entire scrubbing and exfoliating regime, so you settle for the basics? Where brushing your teeth becomes the most rigorous part of your cleaning ritual? Yeah, welcome to Monday morning at St. Sophia's School for (Slightly Grimy) Girls.”

“Have you ever noticed that however uncomfortable you might have been when you first went to bed—the room too hot or too cold; the pillows not quite right; the mattress lumpy; the sheets scratchy by the time you should get up, your bed has transformed itself into the Platonic ideal of beds? The room is cool, the bed is soft, and the pillow may as well have been God’s Own Headrest. The transformation inevitably happens, of course, when you’re obligated to get up and out, when nothing sounds better than hunkering down in a pile of cool cotton.”