She flew at him like a wild boar, all fury and animal instinct.
So many cities in America exist in defiance of the land they were built on.
Anticipating violence always seems to create it.
Some things you can’t fight,” she says, crouching low and fixing her sad green eyes on me. “Some things you have to just survive.
Broken things healed thicker and stronger than they were before, assuming one survived long enough to heal.
Darkness was the great equalizer. Everyone was the same in the dark. Colorless. Featureless. Powerless.
The Lady of the Lake... ” His voice went distant, and a spike of jealousy pierced Guinevere. Because here, finally, she saw what Arthur looked like when he longed for something.
But the past holds her secrets dear, and try as I may, I cannot coax them out of her.
The shelf Imogen is searching is technically off-limits, but since Buffy – the Slayer who single-handedly destroyed almost our entire organization – broke all magic on earth a couple months ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.
You are a different person when you are outside,” Mordred said.
There’s a secret room?′ I ask, at the same time Rhys says, with genuine hurt, ‘There are more books I didn’t know about?
They abandoned us. Buffy led the charge, as always. She was the first Slayer in our entire history who rejected our guidance. Our knowledge. Our help. Like we were holding her back instead of supporting her.
Arthur nodded, slipping his arm around her and stroking her hair with a movement so soft she wondered if he realized he was doing it.
Into every generation a Slayer is born: one girl in all the world, a Chosen One. She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, demons, and forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their number. She is the Slayer.
A man dove in front of her, tackling the wolf and rolling with it. Sir Tristan. The wolf clamped down on his forearm, breaking through the leather. Sir Tristan shouted with as much fury as the wolf’s growls. He threw it free. Then he ran to Guinevere, picked her up, and tossed her into Arthur’s waiting arms.
I have to keep you safe,” he whispered, Arthur once again.
How peaceful to be a tree! Trees had only to grow. Trees had no hearts to confuse and complicate things. Trees could not love kings and still disobey them.
Mordred ever seemed to burn.
We live in the darkness. Fight it or embrace it. But accept that even in a world of powers and gods and Slayers, nothing is going to magically heal you and make you the person you used to be. And would you want it to, if it meant sacrificing everything you’ve learned and become?
You can’t go back. You can’t undo whatever triggered this extra bad you’re struggling through. So discover the new you. Learn to live with her. To love her, when you’re ready. And find people who will go on this journey, too. Because not everyone will, but the ones who do – you fight for them and they fight for you.