None of it seems real. Who knows? Maybe it isnโt. Maybe itโs actually happening to someone else. Maybe itโs something I imagined. Maybe soon Iโm going to wake up and find everything fixed with Lissa and Dimitri. Weโll all be together, and heโll be there to smile and hold me and tell me everything โs going to be okay. Maybe all of this really has been a dream. But I donโt think so.
Richelle MeadOnly what?โ I asked. I could barely hear my own voice. He turned his gaze back to me, firm and unflinching. โOnlyโฆ more human.โ And that was it. All the anger and sorrow vanished. There was nothing in me. Nothing at all. I was empty. โGet out,โ I said.
Richelle MeadAdrian shook his head, still smiling. "I've said over and over, I'd do anything for you. I just keep hoping it'll be something like, 'Adrian, let's go hot tubbing' or 'Adrian, take me out for fondue.'" "Well, sometimes we have to--did you say fondue?" Sometimes it was impossible to follow Adrian's train of thought. "Why in the world would I ever say that?" He shrugged. "I like fondue.
Richelle MeadUnbelievable," I said. "First you wanted to hide her away to keep you alive. Now you actually want her out in the world to use her compulsion for your own psycho plans.
Richelle MeadOh God. She probably thinks we were off doingโyou knowโromantic type, um, thingsโ
Richelle MeadAll this timeโฆever since I sold my soul, Iโve been clinging to this idea that there is something pure and decent out there. That there was something to give me hope that even if I was a lost cause, at least there was something bright and good in the world. But there isnโt. If there was, Seth wouldnโt have fallen. Erik wouldnโt have died. Andrea Mortensen wouldnโt be dying.โ -Georgina to Carter
Richelle Mead