Without his mate to share his life, he was but a screen for events and circumstances to pass through. He was npt even empty, for he was no vessel to hold even the thinnest of air. He lived, though was not truly alive
J.R. WardHe went over to the leathers and picked them up. Nice Catholic boy like him didn't know much about BDSM, but it looked like he was going to learn firsthand. Taking out his cellphone, he hit V, but didn't expect an answer. He guessed GPS was going to have to come in handy once again.
J.R. WardThe Old Language really was beautiful, Blay thought. Staring at the symbols, for one brief, ridiculous moment he imagined his own name across Qhuinn's shoulders, carved into that smooth skin in the manner of the mating ritual. Never going to happen. They were destined to be best friends...which, compared to strangers, was something huge. Compared to lovers? It was the cold side of a locked door.
J.R. Ward