Ronan kept staring at Whelk. He was good at staring. There was something about his stare that took something from the other person.

If I were a tree, I would have no reason to love a human.

Death smells like birthday cake.

The trees called to me, urging me to abandon what I knew and vanish into the oncoming night. It was a desire that had been tugging me with disconcerting frequency these days.

You're not that girl,' Cole said, sounding tired. 'Trust me, I've seen enough of them to know. Look. Don't cry. You're not that girl either.' 'Oh yeah? What girl am I?' 'I'll let you know when I figure it out. Just don't cry.

Face flushed, I shook my head and stared at my white-knuckled grip on the bed. Of all my pet peeves, condescending adults were probably at the top of the list.

My wolf was a cute guy and he was holding my hand. I could die happy.