He wanted to wake up every morning to her. Go to sleep with his body wrapped tightly around hers. He wanted her to have his child—his children. He knew he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her by his side and when he died, he wanted to die in her arms.

He rarely smoked, but once in a while, like now, when his world had been shaken, his woman nearly killed in front of his eyes, and he’d watched a house consume a man and spit him out, he figured a drag or two were appropriate.

The men gasped at Nicholas. "That's the most I've heard him say in three years." Sam said. He turned to the others. "You ever hear him talk that much?" "I wasn't sure he could talk," Tucker Addison replied straight-faced. "He talks," Dahlia said defensively. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but he's just plain anti-social," Sam pointed out, "Always had been, always will be.

He was dead. He just didn't know it yet.

Have you ever heard of a condom? Don't Carpathians have condoms? Because I'm thinking that if you're all that worried, a condom might be just the thing." His smile was slow in coming. "I had not thought of that. As a rule Carpathians do not need such things.

You are the leader here. Obviiusly your skills are far superior to mine. I don't think I could fit into your life. I'm a loner, not the first lady.

There's no room for him in your head, Elle. I'm there. I'll always be there and if he tries to come in I'll drive him out until you're strong enough to do it yourself. And there was never room for him in your heart because I was already there. He couldn't touch your soul. It belongs to you and no one else unless you decide to share.