Nobility and self-sacrifice sound wonderful in theory, but now he’s seen how it feels. A dead hero is still dead at the end of the day, and you’re still alone.

Maybe I was just one of those people who couldn't rest easy unless things went catastrophically wrong.

Sometimes I miss the old me.

We find heroes, not on battlefields, but in hospitals that tend the injured. Sometimes I think it’s easier to fight than it is to heal.

I swept down the stairs to find Fade waiting for me at the bottom. His dark eyes widened, and for the first time since I'd known him, he was speechless. He stared up at me like I was everything he ever wanted.

How can you miss someone who’s right beside you?

Possessiveness isn’t love. I’m not even sure it qualifies as an emotion.