I will fight you endlessly if I think you're wrong but I will never judge you.

Hawke," he said. "That's the word you need to be saying.

His kiss held his heart. It broke hers.

To fight is to face death once more, perhaps the total annihilation of their kind. But to run... is that not also a kind of annihilation?

There's not much left inside me, Max" Sometimes, all she heard were echoes.

His gentleness twined another tendril around her heart, until she was so entangled in him, she knew she’d never break free. For the first time in her life, her wolf had chosen. And it had chosen this lone wolf. “You have me,” she whispered. All of me.

While Dmitri, as the leader of Raphael’s Seven, could not accept such a weakness, the mortal he’d once been, the one who had loved a woman with a wide mouth and eyes of slanted brown . . . that man understood what it was to love so deeply it was a kind of beautiful madness.