Over the years, she'd learned not to question him to closely—mostly because he wouldn't answer her.

Warren made a noise, the first one I'd heard out of him since we'd come into the room. I'd have been happier if he hadn't sounded scared. "Easy, Warren," Adam told him. "You're safe here.” "If you die on us, you won't be," said Kyle with a growl that would have done credit to any of the werewolves in the room.

Mine" he said. Adam's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. She is mine." It would of been flattering,I thought,except that at least one of them was talking about dinner and I wasn't certain about the other.

You should be home sleeping. What is the use of having a man in the house, if he cannot take care of you for a while?” “Mmm,” I said. “I give up. What's the use of having a man in the house?

This was not a man who wanted to give up his mate. This was a man trying to do the honorable thing—and give her a choice, no matter hiw much it cost him.

She wondered that hope was so much harder then despair.

We’d spent years as adversaries, two predators sharing territory and a certain, unwelcome attraction. Somehow, during all those years I spent outwardly acquiescing to his demands while making sure I held my own, I’d won his respect. I’d had werewolves love me and hate me, but I’d never had one respect me before. Not even Samuel. Adam respected me enough to act on my suspicions. It meant a lot.