The Chosen (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #15)

by J.R. Ward

“Don’t feel responsible for something over which you have no control. It’s a recipe for stress that will make you insanely miserable.

It was difficult to explain, but he had always felt he was subject to a certain lack of gravity as he moved about the earth, his body possessing an essential weightlessness that, in retrospect, had predisposed him to falling into the Bloodletter’s ideology of destruction, chaos, and death. When you had no compass of your own, anyone’s would do.

And in no longer trying to find that which did not exist? He had discovered the destination he’d always sought within himself, and it felt…good. It was good to be whole.

It was always better to follow a bumpy course of one’s own than a smooth but intractable trail set by another.

But there were a lot of times in life when you were dancing with the devil and had no idea evil was your partner. And you didn’t find out until it was too late.

it was more that he had resumed who he had originally been, the transformation a comeback to the male that ambition and cruelty had eclipsed.

The recoil would have been comical if Qhuinn hadn’t been up to his elbows in baby poop. The attorney let out a cough. Or maybe that was a gagging noise. “Dearest Virgin Scribe, whatever are you feeding them?” “Enfamil formula.” “And this is legal?” “For the most part, yes. Although depending on the digestive tract it goes into, clearly there are military applications.”

“Love is a matter between souls,” she said as she put her hand on the center of his chest. “Our love is between my soul and yours. Nothing is going to change that, not your past, our present…or whatever futures we may find apart. At least not on my side.”