Rebel Spring

Sometimes, to regain sanity, one had to acknowledge and embrace the madness.

Evil is a choice one makes, not a natural state of being.

I believe we make our own destinies, every last one of us.

Darkness will always try to extinguish the light. The light will always try to repress the darkness.

A KISS! A KISS!" the crowd chanted. (...) "I dont know," Cleo began, sickened by the thought of it. How far was she willing to go to appear agreeable? "Quite honestly, it seems like a bad--" Magnus took a tight hold of her arm and turned her around. Before she could say another word, he put his hand behind her neck, drew her closer to him, and kissed her. Every muscle in her body stiffened. It was the sensation of being a bird caught in a hinter's trap. Her wings screamed out for her to fly away as fast and as far as possible. But he held her firmly in place, his mouth against hers, soft but demanding a response. She gripped the front of his shirt. It was all too much--she wasn't sure if she was pushing him away or pulling him closer. Much like diving into deep water, she had no idea which way would find her air to breathe or which way would drag her down deeper into the depths where she would surely drown. And for a moment, just a moment, she found it didn't seem to matter. The warmth of his body against hers on such a cold day, his now-familiar scent of sandalwood, the heat of his mouth against hers...it all made her head spin, and logic fell away.

But she didn't fall. Someone was there, reaching an arm around her waist to steady her. She looked up expecting to see Nic, but it was Magnus. His dark brows were drawn tightly together. "Problem, princess?

A gown does not make a bride, just as a few empty threats do not make a rebel.

But there was nothing else she could be right now except strong.

But even the coldest hate can shift into something warmer if given enough time, just as an ugly caterpillar can turn into a beautiful butterfly.

I think most are too afraid to see the truth.

What? Who are you marrying?” His jaw tightened.“Princess Cleiona Bellos.” Lucia could not believe her ears. “This has been arranged.” Magnus gave her a look.“Oh, not at all. Since helping to take her father's kingdom and destroy her life,I couldn’t help but fall madly in love with her. Yes,obviously it was arranged.

You’ve made mistakes, yes. And I have no doubt, just as anyone who lives and breathes, that you will make many more in your life. But it doesn’t change who you are deep down inside.

Nic staggered back a foot. "Why have you pursued me out into the streets? I cant help you. Leave me alone." "Can't do that. Not yet. First, I really must know something of great importance." The prince moved closer still. Before Nic could fumble for his sword to protect himself form attack, Ashur took his face between his hands and kissed him. Nic stood there, frozen in place. This was not what he'd expected. At all.

I . . . I don’t hate you.” His dark-eyed gaze held hers. “I don’t hate you either.

She dreamed of escape—of growing wings like a bird and flying away from the palace, never to return. But, alas, she was a bird still locked tightly in her cage.

There are some mortals who are worth sacrificing eternity for.

I’m not planning to assassinate her.” Jonas met each of their gazes in turn. “I’m planning to kidnap her.

For ten thousand centimos, I’m tempted to turn you in myself,”Brion said. Jonas snorted uneasily.“For ten thousand centimos, I’m tempted to turn myself in.

She could think of no other reason for this boy to continue to visit her if not to use her in some way.

But before she could speak another word, he crushed his mouth against hers. It was so unexpected that she hadn't the chance to even think of pushing him away. His body pressed her firmly against the rough cave wall. His hands slid down to her waist to pull her closer to him. And just like that, with his proximity, with his kiss, he managed to fill her every sense. He was smoke from the campfire, he was leaves and moss and the night itself. There was nothing gentle in the rebel's kiss, nothing sweet or kind. It was like nothing she'd ever experience before, and so very dangerous—every bit as deadly as the kiss of an arrow. Finally, he pulled back just a little, his dark eyes glazed as if half drunk. "Princess..." He cupped her face between his hands, his breath ragged. Her lips felt bruised. "I suppose that's how Paelsians show their anger and frustration?

But before she could speak another word, he crushed his mouth against hers.

There are...sacrifices that must be made.

Sometimes the smallest glimmer of inner strength is all that we have to help us press forward through the darkness.

It didn’t really matter who someone was, princess, peasant, rebel, or just a boy or a girl.

My dear girl, the king said as she and Magnus aproached. "You grow lovelier with each day that passes. It's quite remarkable." 'And you grow more hateful and disgusting.

Of course, the wedding! The Temple of Cleiona . . . the crowds will all be outside distracting the guards. Inside . . . it’s the perfect opportunity to assassinate the king and the prince.