…I noticed you don’t have any self-defense training…” “…I can handle myself just fine.” She stared at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Finally, “In the very short time I’ve known you, you have been chased, shot, robbed, stabbed, drugged, and attacked by magic.” “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?

But it is clear to me that our survival—both yours and mine—will be dictated by how well you and I can work together.” “So we’re screwed?

Keep digging, Flynn. Six feet makes a grave.

My dad told me he knew where to find Zay. Which meant I had to cooperate with him....Do you see what we have accomplished together? The healing of souls with the magic you carry. We have healed souls in death. With light and dark magic.We? No, you stuck your hands in my chest and stole my magic and threw it at them. If you try that again, you won't have hands. Where's Zayvion? Okay, maybe I was a little rusty on the whole cooperation thing.

... he was sunset against the mountains, strong, vibrant, dangerous, and yet somehow sheltering, protective. And married. Picnic, meet rain.

I don’t know what’s happened to you. You used to be such a nice girl. Now you’ve gone all stabby and whatnot.

Whether you approach your dreams on soft feet or in a breathless run, just so long as you acknowledge that your dreams are valuable and worthy of pursuing, then you’ve made it.