More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Don’t tell me not to worry about your safety, about your well-being, about you because that shit’s not gonna fly. I don’t want to infringe on your independence, but I’m also not letting a damn thing happen to you. Am I making myself clear on this?”
“I love her,” I tell Grim softly, seriously. “I don’t own her. You don’t hold back someone like Lennix because the beauty is in how she flies. I want to see her soar. I just want to make sure she always lands safely. You know?”
A meridian of seconds where I’m completely satisfied, and at least for this handful of moments, there’s nowhere to be, nothing to gain, and this is enough. This, she is the first time I’ve tasted enough, and I savor it on my tongue, hoard it. Fold it into my hands to memorize the feel of complete satisfaction. An entire kingdom fits in this boat. My whole world rests against my heart.
We’re standing in one of life’s awful moments where your breath is a comma, marking the space before and after tragedy, punctuating that nothing will ever be the same.
“The past is behind us. The future is ours. Figure out how you can change the world right now, and don’t fear it. Do it.”
“Don’t think if he does decide to run you’ll be pulling his strings. If you want a Cade for your schemes, find yourself another one.” I position myself between the two men, pressing my back into Maxim’s hard chest and glaring up at his father. “This one you can’t have.”
“Dad, if you keep looking at her like that,” I say, my voice soft but absolutely serious, “we’re going to have a problem.”
“I want to be able to choose you both. Dad, we lost Owen. We’ve lost the last fifteen years. I’d prefer we not lose anymore, but you can’t hurt Nix. You can’t threaten or insult her. You accept her, or there won’t be a place in my life for you at all.”
“We weren’t unlikely, Nix,” I say, no levity in the words. “We were inevitable.”
