There was just no good way for a dead son to greet his mother almost two weeks after his funeral.

Survival strategy. If you’re not careful, this place will eat you alive, and Kaylee’s like bait for the beasts.

"No, you should stay right where you are, or my estranged brother and I will settle our difference by seeing who can break more of your bones." Tod glanced at him, brows raised. "You want to settle our differences?" Nash frowned. "No, I want to break every bone in his body, and I didn't think you'd let me do it alone." Tod nodded. "Good call."

I got more than I bargained for with him, too. Much more. I know he’s completely different now, but he was really nice and funny when he was human. But apparently his manners didn’t survive the transition.” Marc smiled. “Yeah, well , yours didn’t survive puberty, so you can’t really talk.

I think we should all earn our place in the world. [...] We owe the world something. We owe the world everything.

Jace. This can't happen." I closed my eyes, thinking it would be easier to say without him looking back at me. But it wasn't. "This isn't about us. I can't leave Marc.

“The three of you are enough to drive a mara mad. 'She can wear my shirt,’" she growled in imitation of Nash."No, she can wear my shirt," she said switching to Tod's smoother tone.Then Sabine took off down the hall without a glance at any of us."I have a spare. Come on, Kaylee, before I choke on testosterone and melodrama.”