More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“My balls are sore, little flower, I’ll give you that.”
“You tried that already, remember? I still don’t want your pussy.”
“You really should’ve stayed away. You may still be that same little flower who saved me, but then, I’m not known for letting flowers grow …”
“Flee again and I’ll use my plants to keep you in place.”
“You are a human-shaped headache,” he mutters. “What a compliment to headaches everywhere.” “Do you ever stop talking?”
“You can either lift your arms and cooperate, or I can drag you off this horse,”
“Is fucking your only solution to any problem?”
“I don’t want to be less bloodthirsty—and I definitely don’t want to ‘bang’ you.”
I didn’t throw myself at him. Ana da Silva doesn’t throw herself at anyone; she coyly lures the unwitting into her sex den and enslaves their wills to hers … for a time.
“It’s food for you to eat,” he explains anyway. “To get you to stop talking about sex for five seconds.”
“You’ve been telling me that I had to put something in your mouth to get you to shut up, but it appears all I needed to do is kill a few people,” he says. “How fortunate for me, since I happen to be in the business of death.”
“No, you won’t run,” he says. “Because running takes a certain level of courage that you utterly lack.”
“Thus far, you seem to find my methods of killing distasteful,” he says, “so I thought I’d try my hand at a more … biblical approach.
“There’s nothing redeeming about you.”
“If I give you one of your damned compliments,” he growls, “will you stop questioning me?”
“Did you put me here?” I say by way of greeting. He gives me a look. “No, my horse did.”
“You foolish little flower, don’t you know?” he scolds me. “I kill everything. If you leave my side, you will die.” I push uselessly at his shoulders. “Then let me die, damn you!” “No.”
“I feel … everything,” he finally says. “Every blade of grass, every drop of rain, every centimeter of sunbaked clay. I am the storm that rolls in, I am the wind that carries the bird and the butterfly.”
“One other inhuman thing about me, flower.” Famine turns his head slightly towards me. “I don’t simply exist, I hunger.”
“I knew what it was like to be unwanted. I spent my teenage years feeling as though my family didn’t care whether I lived or died. If it were me laying on the side of the road, I would want someone to care. So I helped you.”
“So you saw yourself in me,” he says, his voice a little hoarse. “I should’ve known at the very heart of it, you’d have selfish motives.
This man is a real piece of fcking work.
“You make even an immortal’s head pound.”
“Why are you the way you are?” he retorts. “You fucking stabbed me in my hand.”
“So don’t act like you invented pain. It’s an insult to the rest of us.”
“The hand of god falls heavy,”
“Please don’t tell me this means you’ll need another meal,” the Reaper says.
“I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to sit next to you and not get bombarded with all your petty thoughts,”
“Finally,” Famine says, a smile curving the corners of his lips, “a hint of your fire.”
“Aren’t you mad?” I ask. “That you lost control? Little flower, I’m enchanted. Your antics have been the best entertainment I’ve seen in a while.”
The sight of the horseman in his black shirt and breeches has me swallowing. The candlelight does nothing but heighten his beauty, dancing over his sharp jaw, high cheekbones and bemused lips. He watches me like a panther, arms folded over his chest.
“Perhaps I’ll take his hands. Heitor doesn’t need hands to help me. He doesn’t need legs either.”
“Calm your tits, Ana,” the horseman says, using my words against me. “This is the fun part.”
“No. You came to violate her. And my friend, we’re both discovering that nothing stokes my rage like trying to harm my flower.”
“I’m the one who gives the orders,” he says.
“You know, for a girl who made it her profession to lie on her back, you have a very curious mind.”
