My mom has a tape from when I was, like, 2 years old, talking with my grandma, telling her a story that's really elaborate about werewolves and wolves.

I know you’ll be a good Queen, a strong, noble leader, and that’s more than these people deserve,” she said. “But don’t give too much. You need to keep some of yourself for you. And listen to your heart.

I don't need love or a man to complete me,and someday, you'll find that true for yourself. Suitors will come and go, but you will remain.

This is the way the world ends; not with a bang or a whimper, but with zombies breaking down the back door.

I predict a long reign ahead of you. Years of being referred to as Your Majesty, Your Grace, Your Excellence, My Liege, My Queen, My Lovely.” “I don’t think that last one is a formal title,” I said. “It should be.

But you're the hardest thing I've ever done, and you're also the best. So... I think that's the moral of the story here. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.

Ready?" Tove asked without looking at me. He started walking before I answered. "Duncan, you don't need to come with us," I told him as I hurried after Tove. Duncan followed me the way he always did, but he slowed. "It's probably best if he does," Tove said, tucking his hair behind his ears. "Why?" I asked, but Duncan smiled, excited to be included. "We need someone to test on," Tove replied matter-of-factly, and Duncan's smile instantly faded.