It was the price of survival. The cost of his people's last, desperate gamble: To rid his new home of humanity, he had to become human. And being human, he had to overcome his humanity.

To hell with monsters and to hell with men. There is no difference to me.

Time for the world to end.

But monsters, I now know, come in all shapes and sizes, and only their appetite for human flesh defines them.

Nothing makes us love something more than the loss of it.

I stare at her. I've always known that it's impossible to argue with Belinda, not because she's particularly good at it, but because she's so bad at it- that there is no common ground to work from. She simply sees the world she wants to see it and no amount of logic can change her mind.

Because promises matter. They matter now more than ever.