Familiar routine is balm to a fragmented soul.
You’d do a Highland husband proud, lass,” he whispered.
When someone hurts you – and I’m not talking about forgivable offenses, some things are irrevocable and demand recompense-you have two choices: slice them out of your life or slice them into delicious, bloody pieces. While the latter would be infinitely more satisfying in an immediate, animalistic way, it changes you. And, although you think the memory of the battle won will be a please-if it is a pleasure, you’ve lost the war.
But this healer, like so many others, was afraid of what was different and thus condemned it. Ignorance translated into fear, which quickly became persecution.
I am your man, and don’t forget it. Had.
Have you no sense at all, that you would provoke me? I’m twice your size, you know,” he murmured against her ear.
Who among the Fae likes you enough to do that favor?” I knew the answer to that. No one. “The one I didn’t kill when I demanded it. After I killed the other two.” I smiled faintly. One word: badass. I want to be Jericho Barrons when I grow up.
Love is funny. Even though you don’t have that person anymore, you still have the feeling. You didn’t lose your love. You lost the tangible, tactile, sense-sational ability to experience the person or animal you lost. Grief is all about not being able to touch anymore. Not being able to use your senses to experience them on a physical level. They’ve moved beyond an impenetrable veil, beyond your hands and mouth and eyes.
Women fight differently from men. You couldn’t get me to hurt a woman’s breasts for anything. I know how tender my own are when I’m PMSing. Besides, we feed babies with them.
Because you still believe you can have everything, his dark eyes say. You can’t. We have nothing. Only the current moment. Once you understand that, you know what’s sacred and not, and never lose sight of it again.
It was possible to love someone who was completely wrong for you. You could waste your entire life loving that person, doing enormous damage to each other and the world around you.
Through the annals of history, women have paid a price for protection. One day, I won’t have to.
I will choose anything over fear. Rage is fuel. Rage is gasoline. And Ryodan wasn’t completely right – because rage, wielded as a weapon, with focus, purpose, and skill, is also massively useful energy. Anger can refine, distill, clarify.
Hi Mega. “Hi Dancer,” I whispered. I love you. “I love you, too.
Then come back to earth and sleep with your devil, who would burn in hell for one night in your arms.
Fear is more than a wasted emotion. It’s the penultimate set of blinders. If you can’t face the truth of your reality, you can’t be a part of it, can’t control it. You may as well throw in the towel and yield to the whims of anyone with a stronger will.
The only question of any significant emotive content is: can you live without it?
Did you really think there was any version of me you could create, in any reality, in any universe that would not – first, foremost, and forever – be loyal to MacKayla Lane?
Each time I say, Thank you, I’m telling him he’s my sun, moon, and stars. And each time Barrons replies, Always. Mac, I know what it means. His “always” is a pledge of love, a promise eternal, and a guarantee that while we may never live happily ever after for very long, we will live. Together. Vibrantly and passionately. Fire to his ice. Ice to my fever.
This moment is perfect. And it’s all we ever have. This moment, right now. We’re fools if we fail to cram all the living and loving we can possibly do into each and every one.