“Oh you know, a little burned, a little sore. Nearly died a couple times. The usual.”
“Relax, oh paranoid one. I doubt there'll be Talon agents hiding in the potted plants.”
“Silly me, here I was thinking we needed big neon signs that said Here We Are, Shoot Us Please on top of the roof.”
“A flame that burns twice as bright lasts half as long.”
“You remind me of that flame Firebrand,” Riley murmured. “You burn so hot, and so bright, you set everything around you on fire. Just be careful that the people around you don’t get singed,” he said in a low voice. “Or that you don’t burn too hot, too quickly. The brightest flames are usually the ones that are extinguished first.”
“I am in love with a dragon.
Let the Order condemn me, I mused, perhaps my first truly rebellious thought in a lifetime. Let them call me a traitor and hunt me down. For thirteen years, I had followed commands, livid by the rigid code of St. George, become their perfect soldier, only to discover the Order I’d dedicated my life to was wrong. Everything I thought I’d knew was a lie. The only real thing was the girl in my arms.”
“I don't feel like playing whack-a-mole with a trained sniper right now.”
“There was no way I was going to let him die. He was my other half; without him, I felt incomplete. I wasn't sure if this was my dragon talking or me,but I couldn't imagine a world without Riley.”
“That's okay. If we are attacked by zombies I don't have to run fast. I just have to run faster than you.”
“Oh, is that all?” Riley frowned, gesturing to the broken window. “And how are we supposed to find where this shooter is without taking a hole to the head? I don’t feel like playing whack-a-mole with a trained sniper right now.”
“I swallowed, feeling something inside me respond, a rush of warmth spreading through my veins. My own dragon, calling to Riley's, like he was her other half.”
“The others started forward, and I gave them a sharp look. "Don't move!" I snapped, and thankfully, they froze. "Stay right there, both of you," I insisted, holding out an arm, the universal gesture of let's all calm the fuck down. "Everyone relax.”
“Holy shit, Riley." The human lowered his glass with a look of disbelief and horror. "The Order chapterhouse itself? So, what you're telling me is you've gone insane?"
"Very likely," I muttered.
"One of your hatchlings?"
"No." I scrubbed a hand through my hair. "One of them."
He stared at me, then used both hands to point at himself. "Okay, see this face? This is my what-the-hell face. Seriously, Riley. What. The. Hell. You snuck into enemy territory, dropped a figurative wasp down their pants and then brought that mess here, so I have to deal with it? Are you out of your freaking mind? Why would you do such a thing?
"It's...complicated." He continued to give me his what-the-hell expression, and I scowled.”
“There are a dozen St. George soldiers hiding in that maze,” my trainer said. “All hunting you. All looking to kill you. Welcone to Phase Two of your training, hatchling.”
“There are a dozen St. George soldiers hiding in that maze,” my trainer said. “All hunting you. All looking to kill you. Welcome to Phase Two of your training, hatchling.”
“Because if I don't, Ember will go without me and get herself killed! Riley snapped, and finally looked in my direction. Those piercing gold eyes met mine across the room, the shadow of Riley's true form staring at me.I shivered as he held my gaze. Because she doesn't know St. George like I do, he went on. She hasn't seen what they're capable of. She doesn't know what they do to our kind if we're discovered. I do. And I'm not going to let that happen.”
“Ut onimous sergimous. As one, we rise.”
“The hardest thing about waiting to die is being torn between wanting more time and wishing they would just get it over with already.”
“You didn’t have to believe what you were saying; you just had to make others believe that you cared.”
“[From Old Mortality]
The woman in the picture. . . was only a ghost in a frame, and a sad, pretty story from old times.”
“Race preservation is a myth … a myth that you all have lived by—a sordid thing that has arisen out of your social structure. The race ends every day. When a man dies the race ends for him—so far as he’s concerned there is no longer any race.”
“I made art a philosophy, and philosophy an art: I altered the minds of men, and the colour of things: I awoke the imagination of my century so that it created myth and legend around me: I summed up all things in a phrase, all existence in an epigram: whatever I touched I made beautiful”
“But maybe love doesn't have to be about lust, maybe I could learn to love, maybe.”
“I can't even tell you how good it felt to see him. It felt even better when he reached through the metal grate, wrapped his fingers around the front of my shirt, dragged me forward, and kissed me through the bars.
"Sorry" he said-only not looking to sorry, if you know what I mean.”
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