The Savior (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #17)

by J.R. Ward

It was kind of like throwing a math problem at a grizzly bear: You got frustrated and the bear didn’t give a shit.

“When do we ever know what we’re walking into,” he said in a low voice. “Destiny is not a straightaway. It’s cluttered with corners and all of them are dark. We make the turns we do . . . and find ourselves where we are.”

If you were loved, if you had people who cared about you, you could be by yourself and never feel alone. But if no one cared? You were isolated even in a crowd.

when you were out of time, you found forgiveness and acceptance so much easier to give.

“I need you to know something,” he whispered as he stared down into her golden eyes. “Even if you can only know it for now and a little bit longer.” “What?” she breathed. “I love you.” He brushed the smooth skin of her cheek. “I’ve fallen in love with you, and I just . . . some things need to be said, even if they’re wrong.”

Her eyes, as she looked up at him, made him wish he still believed in a higher power. Life had taught him otherwise, however, and there was no un-learning the lesson that destiny was a douchebag and loss was more likely than gain.

He placed her hand over his heart. “I am yours. And that is forever, even if your memories of me are not.”

Now that was what she’d expect the king of the vampires to look like. The male had long, straight black hair falling from a widow’s peak, black wraparound sunglasses, black leathers and a muscle shirt, and a face that was cruel and handsome by turns. Tattoos ran down the insides of both his huge forearms and a large black stone glinted on one of his fingers. The golden retriever who was curled up at his feet was a little surprising, and sure, that armchair he was parked in wasn’t exactly a George R. R. Martin–worthy throne, but the impression he made was so overwhelming, you could have put him in a Finding Dory kiddie pool and he’d still have looked like a badass.

He was breathing hard. He was dizzy. He was lost and found at once. Sarah’s lids slowly opened. And her smile was the sunrise he would never see outdoors. Except then she frowned. “Why are you crying?”

She should probably eat something. But God, that felt like an insurmountable obstacle course of what to choose, where to find it—and then, fuck, the chewing. Too much like work.

When the love of your life is gone, nothing is all that scary anymore.

there was no right or wrong way to honor the dead. The living could pay their respects in any way they chose. The important thing was that the deceased was sent unto the afterlife on a wave of love. Because it helped the departed souls find peace in their new place.