And he realized... that fragile, mortal life wasn't just important to him. It was more important than his own.

Human women have been slapping men for being bastards for centuries. You were doing what comes naturally.

He'd kill for her, destroy for her, savage anyone who dared attempt to take her from him. And he would never let her go...even if she begged for her freedom.

No more chances, Golden Eyes. You’re mine and I’ll draw blood to enforce my claim.

The power, it seduced, whispering to me to weave it into my own cells." A glance over his shoulder. "Before you, I would've no doubt accepted it and it would've destroyed me from the inside out." "Before you," she whispered, "I was shut up inside my heart, protecting it from harm, and never knowing the glory I missed." She linked her hand in his. "You and I, we're a unit. I dare any evil on this earth to tear us apart.

Do you think you have the right to give me orders now?" The Archangel of New York, a creature so lethal that part of her feared him even now, lifted the hair off her nape, brushed his lips across her skin. "Of course. You are mine." No hint of humor, nothing but stark possession. "I don't think you've quite got the hang of this true love thing.

Surely you’re not going to practice discretion now?