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“I’m just saying that when there is little left to lose, the consequences of one’s actions don’t carry the same weight—painful or otherwise.”
“You cannot thrive under the wrong stars, Kricket,” Trey says in a calm, soothing voice. “The stars here are in opposition to you . . . can’t you feel it? You are foreign to them. You have no ancestry here—no lineage. Let us take you home.”
“Everyone wants something, Trey. Some are up front about it, and some, well . . . some just lie,”
“You’re tough?” “I’m stone.” “Stone can be broken.” Tilting my head toward him, I meet his eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m used to holding on to nothing as tight as I can.”
“As it turns out, my heart isn’t made of stone . . . no matter how much I wish it were.”
The problem I have now is that my heart is no longer stone; it feels like paper, ready to be shredded at any moment.
“We have to make the stars align for us now—find a way for us not to get burned for being together.”
“This shouldn’t be a forced choice, Kricket! I don’t want you to be with me because I’m the lesser evil!”
“You could never be a temporary situation for me, Kricket. I know that once I have you, I’ll never be able to let you go.” He looks concerned as he scans my face. “I want you as my consort . . . ‘until death do us part, and then forever after that,’ ”
“She’ll be the death of us both. I’d be doing you a favor by pulling the trigger. Don’t you know that you should eliminate what you can’t have? She’s a priestess. She’s in your head, Trey.” “My head, my heart, my blood,” Trey responds immediately. “That’s unfortunate for you, because she belongs to me.
