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I was firmly of the opinion that it was the quiet things in life that boasted the most menace: the silent people, the unspoken words… the sleeping houses.
He was always approachable, always gentle, and yet he seemed so far out of reach that I sometimes wondered if he existed on a separate wavelength to the rest of us.
The eyes were mismatched, one a blue-green and the other a blue-violet.
“You’re one of us,” Noah corrected. “A Zevghéri.”
“You’re a miracle, Seraph. You’re incredible. You just don’t know it yet. Now get the hell out of my classroom.”
“Alright, you emotional wreck, stop beating up your stalkers please. We need to stay healthy, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
Cabe surged forward, grabbed my face and fused his lips to mine. The electricity raced through my system stronger than ever before, accompanied by a heady sense of blurred indecision.
Quillan was as safe as his twin was dangerous; he was as safe as Cabe was comfortable, as safe as Noah was intense.
