Love thy enemies, it says in the scriptures. My foster mother always added, "At the very least, you will be polite to them.

Moonlight streamed in, sending loving beams over his face. He closed his eyes and basked in it, and I could tell it was calling to him, even though the moon was not full. She didn't speak to me, but Samuel had once described her song to me in the words of a poet. The expression of bliss on his face while he listened to her music made him beautiful.

New rules. If you are smart enough to live, you won’t hit Charles’s mate in front of his father.

My foster mother always laughed and said it was his reputation for knowing everything that allowed for him to appear infallible: all he had to do was walk through the room and see who looked guiltiest when they saw him. Maybe she was right, but I tried looking innocent the next time, and it didn't work.

She'd never have allowed herself to be held by anything as mundane as a few bars and a reinforced door

I give you Mercedes Athena Thompson, our newest member." Much awkwardness ensued.

She understood his passion because she felt the same way: as if nothing was more important than the touch of her skin to his, as if she'd die if he left her.