“You, know I'm the Queen's favorite great nephew, Well, yeah I'm her only great nephew, but that's not important, I'd still be her favorite...”

“I'm sorry." "Be sorry you lied," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Don't be sorry you loved him. That's part of you, part you have to let go, yeah, but still something that's made you who you are.”

“Nah. I’m a consultant, of course. Everyone’s favorite nondescript yet well-paid white-collar job.”

“You should dress her better, you know." "I'm not interested in putting clothes on her," Adrian called as he steered me away. "Watch it," I warned through gritted teeth, "or you might be the one with the wineglass in your face." "I'm playing a part, little dhampir. One that's going to make sure you stay out of trouble." Adrian gave me a head-to-toe assessment. "That guy was right about the clothes, though.”

“If only it were that easy. You forget: I have an addictive personality. I'm addicted to you. Somehow I think you could do all sorts of bad things to me, and I'd still come back to you.”

“Dimitri: "Were you really going to attack all of us? Doing that...protecting her like that—it was very brave. Stupid, but still brave. Why did you even try it?”Rose: "Because I'm her guardian.”

“I'm done with the pouting," he said. "Done with being moody—well, I mean, I'm always a little moody. That's what Adrian Ivashkov's all about. But I'm done with the excessive stuff. That didn't get me anywhere with Rose. It won't get me anywhere with you.""Nothing will get you anywhere with me," I exclaimed."I don't know about that." He put on an introspective look that was both unexpected and intruiging. "You're not as much of a lost cause as she was. I mean, with her, I had to overcome her deep, epic love with a Russian warlord. You and I just have to overcome hundreds of years' worth of deeply ingrained prejudice and taboo between our two races. Easy.”