The Lost Book of the White (The Eldest Curses, #2)

by Cassandra Clare

Jem looked at him in surprise. “Well—because she’s an eldest curse, of course. Like you.”

I had forgotten what the subtitle referred to.

Eldest curses are not just children of Princes of Hell. They’re the oldest living children of those princes. There can only be nine of them alive at any one time, and I know of only two. And I’m talking to one of them and married to the other.”

The strength of Alec’s love humbled him and lifted him up like a wave; he let the wave carry him toward Alec, toward their bed together, toward their interlocked hands as they moved in unison, stifling their cries against each other’s lips.

So swoony. 😍

He leaned forward and kissed Magnus, gently, slowly, the way he would on a Sunday morning in bed. It was totally at odds with their situation, totally at odds with how either of them felt in that moment. It was wonderful. “Not the time!” Jace yelled from a little ways ahead of them. “Always the time,” Alec murmured against Magnus’s mouth. He called back to Jace, “Just working to keep up morale!”

"Always the time..." 💞

For one thing, it was quite galvanizing to hear your boyfriend deliver a stirring defense of your importance and righteousness. For another, he was having a difficult time thinking of an occasion when Magnus had been hotter.

Jace was staring. Alec patted him on the shoulder. “There’s something about a tiny girl with a gigantic sword,” Jace murmured. Clary came back over. Jace visibly restrained himself from grabbing her and kissing her, and instead went back to the pile of weapons at their feet.

Metaphor if I have ever hear done...😉