For Adam, screwed-up bonding thing or not, I’d wait forever. “Really?” he asked in a tone I’d never heard from him before. Softer. Vulnerable. Adam didn’t do vulnerable. “Really what?” I asked. “Despite the way our bond scares you, despite the way someone in the pack played you, you’d still have me?” He'd been listening to my thoughts. This time it didn't bother me. “Adam,” I told him, “I’d walk barefoot over hot coals for you.

He bit the nape of my neck and I moaned.

Christmas garland and a rock?" he said, a smile in his voice."Why not an ornament?" "Wolves aren't fragile," I told him. "And they're... stubbon and hard to move

Sometimes I think I live more closely to the past than the present.

It's easier to dismiss ghosts in the daylight.

She open her eyes and met his. The impact was so strong he was amazed that his figures continued playing with out pause.

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.