It’s Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don’t try to understand it. Just roll with it.

But all I could see was her. No skill of mine, no artist anywhere, could’ve immortalized how gorgeous she was. It was impossible to believe she’d ever had any doubts about her body. The firelight shone on her skin, golden and perfect, making her look like some radiant goddess of legend. I wanted to kneel before her and offer eternal obedience.

Adrian was easily distractible by wacky topics and shiny objects.

Fine" I said icily. "I'll do this. but i want it noted that I'm doing this against my will." "I think we already figured that out, Miss Hathaway.

I eyed Dimitri, recalling a shadow in my periphery back in the ballroom. "You followed when I jumped in front of Lissa, didn't you? Who were you going for? Me or her?" He studied me for several long seconds. He could have lied. He could have given the easy answer by saying he'd intended to push both of us out of the way-if that was even possible, which I didn't recall. But Dimitri didn't lie. "I don't know, Roza. I don't know.

Everything Iʹd been taught about eluding someone came rushing back to my head. What I wanted to do more than anything was look around and see if I had a follower, but that would have definitely attracted attention.

Kill me, Doug. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery.” “Christ, Kincaid, what did you say to him?” murmured Doug. “Well,” I told Doug, “I ripped on his fans and on how long it takes for his books to come out.” Doug stared at me, his expectations exceeded. “Then I said—not knowing who he was—that I’d be Seth Mortensen’s love slave in exchange for advanced copies of his books.