Archangel's Kiss

They didn't understand that she held his heart, held it so utterly that there was nothing he wouldn't do, no line he wouldn't cross to keep her safe.

He wanted to give me a blade? What's wrong with that?” “Blades,” he whispered, “and sheaths go together. And your sheath will only ever hold my blade.

Emotion without reason lets people walk all over you; reason without emotion is a mask for cruelty.

Tell me something, Raphael?" He was already turning, heading to the door. "What is it you'd like to know, Guild Hunter?" She hid her smile at his slip. "What do I call you? Husband? Mate? Boyfriend?" Stopping with his hand on the doorknob, he shot her an inscrutable look. "You can call me 'Master'.

We die...... We die together. That's the deal.

Are your eyelashes like your hair?” “Yes. They’re very beautiful—want to see?” Her lips twitched. “Vanity is a sin,Bluebell.” “When you have it, flaunt it, I say.” -Elena and Illium

We'll build our own home." The promise curled around her heart, a vivid ray of sunlight. "In Manhattan?" "Of course." A slow, slow smile. "What kind of mansion would you like?" Damn, but the archangel was playing with her again. The sunshine grew, filled her veins. "Actually, I kind of like yours." She slid her arms around his neck. "Can I have it? Oh, and can I have Jeeves, too? I've always wanted a butler." "Yes." She blinked. "Just like that?" "It's only a place." "We'll make it more," she promised, her mouth to his. "We'll make it ours.

Love, he thought as he held her to his heart, was an agony beyond compare.

Venom’s pupils contracted the instant before he slid his sunglasses back on. She couldn’t help it. “Why isn’t your tongue forked?” “Why can’t you fly?” A smirk. “Those things on your back aren’t accessories you know.

A queen keeps a court that is spoken about. A goddess keeps a court that is never forgotten.

But you, you’ve always been the rain, the wind, inside my mind. I taste you when I sleep, when I wake, when I breathe.

The longer you live, the more mistakes you make. And the more sorrows you carry.

I look into my heart and see the abyss looking back at me.' 'I won't let you fall.

And if she fell, he'd fall with her.

The scent of the sea, a wild turbulent storm, crashing into her mind. Elena, why is Dmitri naked?

Reason without emotion is often a mask for cruelty; emotion without reason can allow people to excuse all sorts of excesses.

I think Illium can take care of himself.” “Not if he keeps flirting with you.” A fine, almost elegant tendril of heat, champagne and sunshine, decadence in the light. “Raphael’s not the sharing kind.

There is a dark music in the screams of your enemies.” (Raphael)

You chose a warrior, remember?” “As you chose an archangel.

Under her palm, his heart beat strong and sure. It was such a human sound, so honest, so real.

Do you think you have the right to give me orders now?" The Archangel of New York, a creature so lethal that part of her feared him even now, lifted the hair off her nape, brushed his lips across her skin. "Of course. You are mine." No hint of humor, nothing but stark possession. "I don't think you've quite got the hang of this true love thing.

Nothing's ever gone. We fool ourselves that things fade, but they never do.

He'd kill for her, destroy for her, savage anyone who dared attempt to take her from him. And he would never let her go...even if she begged for her freedom.

Do I look like I want to be eaten alive after sex?

Fathers and mothers,” she found herself saying, “leave their mark, no matter if we’ve known them a lifetime or only a day.

I have every confidence that you’ll find a way to end my life before I stain the world with evil.” Rebellion in those eyes. “We die,” she said, “we die together. That’s the deal.” He thought about his final thoughts as he’d fallen with her in New York, her body broken in his arms, her voice less than a whisper in his mind. He hadn’t considered holding onto his eternity for a second, had chosen to die with her, with his hunter. That she would choose to do the same . . . His hands clenched. “We die,” he repeated, “we die together.” A moment of utter silence, the sense of something being locked into place.

Michaela, Sara, Michaela, Sara,” she murmured in a mock-thoughtful voice. “Bitch Goddess angel versus my best friend, gee, which side do you think I’ll choose?

He knew what he was. He knew what he was capable of. He also knew that if he broke her, he'd despise himself for all eternity.