Sleep? What's that? A new type of casserole?

There, that's better. Now you look like the wild scrub that fell into my life." "Because you loosened the vent's screws." "Best. Decision. Ever.

I balled my hands into tight fists to keep them from wrapping around Mr. I-Know-Everything's superior neck.

I'd like you to make a commitment to me as well. Will you be my mate?

Exactly. You can shoulder all the blame and become a martyr. Provided anyone knows what or who you're martyring for. Or you can accept that some things are important enough to fight for and realize there will be sacrifices along the way.

Poisoned, pursued and living with a psychopath. Not what I would consider the good life. Death has its perks.

Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked. “Do you really have an answer?” he countered. “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.” “But it was my uncle’s.” “You’re not your uncle.” “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused. “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.