Screw you," I told him in a low voice. "Are you offering?โ "From what I've heard, there isn't much to screw," I shot back.
Richelle MeadYou can't," I murmured, swallowing the tears back with great effort. "You can't keep saving me, can't keep trying to. It's too late." "No," he said. His heart was in his eyes, and it was ripping mine apart. "Not for you. Never.
Richelle Mead