“Christ can forgive you," he whispered, though he didn't believe it. There wasn't a hint of compassion in those ice-blue eyes."That's grand," she said.Her features became again those of the pleasant brown-haired nurse. She smiled, pulled the pillow from under his head, and covered his face.”

“He started to pull away again but she called his name so he stopped.“Yeah?”“Before you go, give me the dimples,” she demanded.That thing in his throat prickled and Hawk dipped his head and kissed the indentation at the base of his wife’s throat. Then he lifted his head and smiled at her.Her hand came to his face and he felt the pad of her thumb in one of his dimples.Then her eyes moved from her thumb to his and she smiled back. ”

“Run,” he whispered. “Run.”“No, Rand,” I said, brushing the dirt from his face. “I’m tired of running.”“Forgive me, please.” He clutched my hand as his eyes beseeched me through tears of pain.“You’re forgiven.”He sighed once, then stopped breathing. The shine in his brown eyes dulled. I pulled his hood over his head.”

“Isabelle had been trained to wake up early every morning, rain or shine, and a slight hangover did nothing to prevent it from happening again. She sat up slowly and blinked down at Simon. She'd never spent and entire night in a bed with anyone else, unless you counted crawling into her parents bed when she was four and afraid of thunderstorms. She couldn't help staring at Simon as if he were some exotic species of animal. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly open, his hair in his eyes. Ordinary brown hair, ordinary brown eyes. His t-shirt was pulled up slightly. He wasn't muscular like a shadowhunter. He had a smooth flat stomach but no six-pack, and there was still a hint of softness to his face. What was it about him that fascinated her? He was plenty cute, but she had dated gorgeous faerie knights, sexy shadowhunters..."Isabelle," Simon said without opening his eyes. "Quit staring at me.”

“She thought she was wrong? He was the one who got a hard-on every time she looked up at him with those desperate, brown eyes. Everything in his brain screamed: Prey. Take. Use. He wasn't exactly proud of it, but there it was.”

“Sometimes I remember that I can't always protect those I love." Under his fingers, her hair was soft and silky.She didn't try to tell him that he wasn't God, that he couldn't protect everyone. He knew that. But knowing and believing were two different things. What she did say succeeded in stopping his heart. "I wish you'd love me.""Why?""Because then maybe you could protect me, too." Haunting sorrow whispered through her tone.”