That memory made a lump form in my throat as I remembered his face, serious and gorgeous, those brown eyes intense and passionate as he spoke up for me and convinced the others of my value.

My muse is an ungrateful harlot who’s abandoned me to actually come up with my own plots.

Would he have said he loved me? I would ask myself that for the rest of my life.

Your hair," repeated Dimitri. His eyes were wide, almost awestruck. "Your hair is beautiful." I didn't think so, not in its current state. of course, considering we were in a dark alley filled with bodies, the choices were kind of limited. "You see? You're not one of them. Strigoi don't see beauty. Only death. You found something beautiful. One thing that's beautiful." Hesitantly, nervously, he ran his fingers along the strands I'd touched earlier. "But is it enough?" "It is for now." I pressed a kiss to his forehead and helped him stand. "It is for now.

You should know better.ʺ ʺIʹve never known better,ʺ he countered. ʺYou should know that.

He watched as I slipped one of the shoes on. "You have a guardian angel." "I don't believe in angels," I told him. "I believe in what I can do for myself." Well then, you have an amazing body." I glanced up at him with a questioning look. "For healing, I mean. I heard about the accident.

I’m not a warrior or a goddess,” I said at last. Adrian leaned closer. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re both.