While I'm gone," Gansey said, pausing, "dream me the world. Something new for every night.

She breathed. "This is lovely." It was for Adam, not Gansey, but she saw Gansey glance over his shoulder at her.

It tore my heart out, because I heard his voice. The wolves sang slowly behind him, bittersweet harmony, but all I heard was Sam. His howl trembled, rose, fell in anguish. I listened for a long time. I prayed for them to stop, to leave me alone, but at the same time I was desperately afraid they would. Long after the other voices had dropped away, Sam kept howling, very soft and slow. When he finally fell silent, the night felt dead.

My words are unerring tools of destruction, and I’ve come unequipped with the ability to disarm them.

There is something very shocking about seeing him standing dark and still on our doorstep. I lean the door a ways. The night's getting chilly. "You got away from the yard." "Is it still all right?" "It's all right. It's me and Gabe and Finn and Tommy Falk." "I've brought this." He holds up the bread, which is clearly a Palson's loaf, and it's still so fresh that I can smell the warmth of it. He must've come straight from there.

Is that all?" she whispered. Gansey closed his eyes. "That's all there is.

Blue was awfully fond of her father, considering she'd never met him.