Up in the distance the whistle of the wind sang to her from the mountain. From Lucianโs mountain. It beckoned and taunted and she wanted to run towards it. To be enveloped in its coat of fleece and to hear its safe sounds.
Melina MarchettaIf sheโs out here and not locked up in the barracks, Iโll know,โ he said. He took a deep breath and whistled. โYou share a whistle?โ Trevanion said in disbelief. โDo you have a problem with that?โ Finnikin asked. โI have a few whistles,โ Lucian murmured. โVery confusing sometimes.โ โWhistles are meant for combat,โ Trevanion said. โNot wooing women. Women do not understand whistles.
Melina MarchettaYou said to me once that you werenโt what I dreamed of. You were right. You surpass everything I dreamed of. Even the rot in you thatโs caused you to do shameful things. Some men let the rot and guilt fester into something ugly beyond words. Few men can turn it into worth and substance. If youโre godsโ blessed for no other reason, itโs for that.
Melina MarchettaEverything hurts, every single thing including the weight of him and I'm crying because it hurts and he's telling me he's sorry over and over again, and I figure somewhere down the track we'll work out the right way of doing this but I don't want to let go, because tonight I'm not looking for anything more than being a part of him. Because being a part of him isn't just anything. It's kind of everything.
Melina Marchetta