Sometimes, fact mixed with fiction so thoroughly that, though no lies were told, it was hard to remember what was strictly true.

Melanie still grieves for Jared," she stated. I felt my head nod without willing the action. "You grieve for him." I closed my eyes. "The dreams continue?" "Every night," I mumbled. "Tell me about then." Her voice was soft, persuasive. "I don't like to talk about them." "I know. Try. It might help." "How? How will it help to tell you that I see his face every time I close my eyes? That I wake up and cry when he's not there? That the memories are so strong I can't separate hers from mine anymore?

So when he touched me, it was deeper and slower than the wildfire, like the flow of molten rock far beneath the surface of the earth. Too deep to feel the heat of it, but it moved inexorably, changing the very foundations of the world with its advance.

Her name is Wanda, not it. You will not touch her. Any mark you leave on her, I will double on your worthless hide.

Try not to trip. We don’t have time for a concussion today.

Whatever end found us, it would not find us separated. -- Bella Cullen

Fine,' Jared snapped. 'But if you try cuddling up to me tonight... so help me, O'Shea." Ian chuckled. ' Not to sound overly arrogant, but to be perfectly honest, Jared, were I so inclined, I think I could do better.