I think every now and then about Sean’s thumb pressed against my wrist and daydream about him touching me again. But mostly I think about the way he looks at me – with respect – and I think that’s probably worth more than anything.

Overhead, the stars were wheeling and infinite, a complicated mobile made by giants.

Do you have it on your person?" my father asked. "Jesus" I replied. "My person has it in her purse.

In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. Her raven boys.

Do you know how to wrap a leg?" "I was born wrapping legs," I say stiffly, because I'm insulted. "Must've been a challenging delivery," Sean notes.

Avoiding a bathtub because your parents tried to kill you in one isn't the same as avoiding your entire life by becoming a wolf.

But love isn't quantifiable on paper.