“Nïx clasped her hands over her chest,sighing, “He gave you his heart. That’s so romantic.So much better than a candy heart.Those get stuck in the fangs, you know.”

“Elizabeth,With my compliments.You will never get your claws into another one of mine.Rot in hell,LNïx clasped her hands over her chest, sighing, “He gave you his heart. That’s so romantic. So much better than a candy heart. Those get stuck in the fangs, you know.”

“You gave her your heart, and she gave you the bird.” Nïx sighed. “Songs will be written about this.”

“As Lothaire lifted the lid with a sense of dread, Nïx murmured, “Hint: it’s the middle one.”Elizabeth’s fragile finger.Seeing it severed like this brought on a visceral reaction—pain shooting through his own hand, radiating throughout his regenerated heart. He closed the lid with a swallow, sentimentally pocketing the package.“You gave her your heart, and she gave you the bird.” Nïx sighed. “Songs will be written about this.”

“He made a sound of frustation, caught at her hand, brought it to his chest, and pressed it flat over his heart. The steady beat hammered against her palm. "Every heart has its own melody," he said. "You know mine.”

“In answer, she took his hand and placed it on her chest. Right over her heart. 'You're in, Cade Morgan. Only you.”