Krissie > Krissie's Quotes

“You’ll lose everything you’ve worked for.” My voice breaks. “Because of me.” “Then I’ll have everything I need.” He lowers his face, leaning in so he’s all I see, all I feel. “I will happily watch Aretia burn to the fucking ground again if it means you live.” “You don’t mean that.” He loves his home. He’s done everything to protect his home. “I do. I’m sorry if you expect me to do the noble thing. I warned you. I’m not sweet or soft or kind, and you fell anyway. This is what you get, Violet—me. The good, the bad, the unforgivable. All of it. I am yours.” His arm wraps around the small of my back, holding me steady and close. “You want to know something true? Something real? I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been since the night the snow fell in your hair and you kissed me for the first time. I’m grateful my life is tied to yours because it means I won’t have to face a day without you in it. My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I’ll meet Malek at your side. It’s a damned good thing that you love me, too, because you’re stuck with me in this life and every other that could possibly follow.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Iron Flame

“Do. You. Still. Love. Me?” I enunciate every word and lean right into his space just to prove that I’m not intimidated by him. He cups the back of my neck and pulls me within inches of his face—close enough to kiss. “I could reach the rank of Maven, lead armies of dark wielders against everyone we care for, and watch every vein in my body turn red as I channel all the power in the Continent, and I would still love you. What I did doesn’t change that. I’m not sure anything can.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Onyx Storm

“Meadows, baby. Our last name is Meadows.”
― H.D. Carlton, Hunting Adeline

“Violet Sorrengail,' she whispers, moving closer. 'Are you wearing Riorson's flight jacket?'

Liam's head snaps in my direction, curse his stupidly good hearing.

'Why would you say that?' I do a shitty job of feigning shock and shove the sheaths into every available pocket in this thing. All three of them, which are considerably deeper than the ones in my own jacket.

'Oh, I don't know. Because it's huge on you and there are three stars right here?' She taps where there's only one star on her uniform.

Well, shit. Just goes to show that neither of us was thinking clearly.

'It could be any third-year's.' I shrug.

'With a Fourth Wing shield on the shoulder?' She cocks an eyebrow.

'That does limit it a bit,' I agree.

'And a wingleader emblem beneath those stars?' she teases.

'Fine, it's his.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I want to slap him. But the asshole would probably like it, and then turn around and slap me back. And my dumbass self would probably like it, too.”
― H.D. Carlton, Haunting Adeline

“Run, if I catch you, I f-k you.”
― H.D. Carlton, Haunting Adeline

“Run little mouse”
― H.D. Carlton, Haunting Adeline

“No matter how far I run, how hard I try to escape you --you're everywhere I go. You're everything I see. Loving you is like being trapped in a house of mirrors, little mouse. And I've never felt so at home while being so lost inside you.”
― H.D. Carlton, Haunting Adeline

“So then why are you here, Xaden?'

'Because I can't seem to stay away.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“I'm going to keep you,' he promises, just like he did last night. Or was it this morning? 'You're mine, Violet.'

I lift my chin. 'Only if you're mine.'

'I've been yours for longer than you could ever imagine.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You wanted me then?'

'I've wanted you from the first second I saw you, Violence.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Not fair to use your powers on the mat.' Magical. Sexual. Whatever. It's all unfair.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Three days?' Dain fires back, leaning in. 'You couldn't make it three days?'

'It has nothing to do with him.' I interrupt, setting my dragon down with a little more force than necessary. 'That's up to Tairn and Sgaeyl.'

'You never considered that it was you I couldn't stay away from?'

I crook my right arm and jab it into Xaden's biceps. He doesn't mean that. Not when he's still adamant that kissing me was a mistake. And if he does... I'm not going there...

'Now, now, you'll give our little communication secret away if you can't keep from being so... violent.' He barely restrains a smile, obviously loving that he gets the last word.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Holy. Fucking. Hot.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“He stares at me in disbelief. 'You know what? We're not fighting tonight. Not if you want to learn how to shield.'

'Fine. We're not fighting. Teach me.' I tilt my chin. Gods, I barely reach his collarbone.

'Ask me nicely.' He leans closer.

'Have you always been this tall?' I blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

'No, I was a a child at some point.'

I roll my eyes.

'Ask me nicely, Violence,' he whispers. 'Or I'm gone.'
...

'Right then. All right. Will you teach me to shield?'

A smile curves his mouth, and my gaze drops to his lips. 'Say please.'

'Are you always this difficult?'

'Only when I know I have something you need. What can I say, I like making you squirm. It's like a sweet little slice of payback for what you've put me through these last couple of months.' He brushes the snow off my hair.

'What I've put you through?' Unbelieveable.

'You've scared me nearly to death once or twice, so I think saying please is a fair request.'

Like he's ever played fair a day in his life. I take a deep breath, and swat at a snowflake that lands on my nose. 'As you prefer. Xaden?' I smile sweetly up at him and inch a little closer. 'Would you pretty, pretty please teach me how to shield before I accidentally climb you like a tree and we both wake up with regrets?'

'Oh, I'm firmly in control of my faculties.' He smiles again, and I feel it like a caress.

Dangerous. This is so damn dangerous.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You choose the oddest times to defend her, Aetos,' Xaden all but rolls his eyes as he looks at Dain. 'And the most convenient times not to.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You're all fucking dead.' His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for it.

Every head in the room turns.

'Riorson!' Orsen's dagger clatters to the floor.

'You think surrendering will save you?' Xaden's lethally soft tone sends goose bumps up my arms. 'It is against our code to attack another rider in their sleep.'

'But you know he never should have bonded her!' Orsen puts his hands up, his palms facing us. 'You of all people have reason enough to want the weakling dead. We're just correcting a mistake.'

'Dragons don't make mistakes.' Xaden's shadows grab every assailant but Orsen by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn't matter. Their faces turn people, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees, falling in an arc in front of me like lifeless puppets.

I can't find it in my head to pity them.

Xaden prowls forward as though he has all the time in the world and holds out his palm as yet another tendril of darkness lifts my discarded dagger from the floor.

'Let me explain.' Orsen eyes the dagger, and his hands tremble.

'I've heard everything I need to hear.' Xaden's fingers curl around the hilt. 'She should have killed you in the field, but she's merciful. That's not a flaw I possess.' He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and Oren's throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.

He grabs for his throat, but it's useless. He bleeds out in seconds, crumpling to the floor. A crimson puddle grows around him.

'Damn, Xaden,' Garrick walks in, sheathing his sword as his gazes rakes over the room. 'No time for questioning?' His glance sweeps to me as if cataloguing injuries, catching on my throat.

'No need for it,' Xaden counters...”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“He always that overprotective?' Xaden grumbles, pressing up from the mat a few inches.

'He cares about me,' I glare at him.

'He's holding you back. Don't worry. Your little poisoning secret is safe with me.' Xaden arches a brow as if to remind me that I'm the keeper of one of his secrets, too. Then he guides our hands back to my ribs and slides the ruby-hilted blade back into its sheath.

The move is unnervingly... hot.

'You're not going to disarm me?' I challenge as he releases his grip and pushes up move, removing his weight from my body. My ribs expand as I take my first full breath.

'Nope. Defenceless women have never been my type. We're done for today.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Get your dagger,' he orders.

'What?' My eyes fly wide. He has me defenceless and in the kill position already.

'Get. Your. Dagger,' he repeats, taking my hand in his and retrieving the last blade I have. His fingers curl over mine, clasping the hilt.

Fire races along my skin at the feel of his fingers lacing with mine.

Toxic. Dangerous. Wants to kill you. Nope, doesn't matter. My pulse still skitters like a teenager.

'You're tiny.' He says it like an insult.

'Well aware.' My eyes narrow.

'So stop going for bigger moves that expose you.' He drags the tip of the dagger down his side. 'A rib shot would've worked just fine.' Then he guides our hands around his back, making himself vulnerable. 'Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too.'

I swallow, refusing to think of other things that are a good fit at this angle.

He leads our hands to his waist, his gaze never leaving mine. 'Chances are, if your opponent is in armour, it's weak here. Those are three easy places you could have struck before your opponent would have had time to stop you.'

They're also fatal wounds, and I've avoided them at all costs.

'Do you hear me?'

I nod.

'Good. Because you can't poison every enemy you come across,' he whispers, and I blanche. 'You're not going to have time to offer tea to some Braevi gryphon rider when they come at you.'

'How did you know?' I finally ask. My muscles lock, including my thighs, which just happen to still be bracketing his hips.

His eyes darken. 'Oh, Violence. You're good, but I've known better poison masters. The trick is to not make it quite so obvious.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Taking out your enemy before the battle is really smart; I'll give you that,' he whispers, his warm breath brushing the shell of my ear.

Oh gods. He knows what I've been doing. The pain in my arm is nothing compared to the nausea churning in my stomach at the thought of what he might do with that knowledge.

'Problem is, if you aren't testing yourself in here'- he scrapes the dagger down my neck, but there's no warm trickle of blood, so I know he hasn't cut me- 'then you're not going to get any better.'

'You'd rather I die, no doubt,' I fire back, the side of my face pressed into the mat. This isn't just painful, it's humiliating.

'And be denied the pleasure of your company?' he mocks.

'I fucking hate you.' The words are past my lips before I can shut my mouth.

'That doesn't make you special.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Beautiful. Fucking. Asshole.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“There are a dozen of these daggers strapped to my body, so start disarming me.” He lifts a sardonic brow. “Unless you don’t know how to handle an opponent on top of you, and if so, that’s a whole other issue.”
“I know how to handle you on top of me,” I challenge quietly.
He lowers his mouth to my ear. “You won’t like what happens if you push me.”
“Or maybe I will.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You take a step toward that Sorrengail and you’ll be dead before you can even shift your weight,” Xaden says”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“Ignite, my love. Ignite.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Ignite Me

“It's not charity," I snap. "He cares about me--and I care about him!"

Warner nods, unimpressed. "You should get a dog, love. I hear they share much the same qualities.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Ignite Me

“The tattoo is just setting below his hp bone.
H e l l i s e m p t y
a n d a l l t h e d e v i l s a r e h e r e

I kiss my way across the words.
Kissing away the devils.
Kissing away the pain.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Ignite Me

“Lift your hips for me, love.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Ignite Me

“Aaron Warner Anderson, chief commander and regent of Sector 45, son of the supreme commander of The Reestablishment.

He has a soft spot for fashion.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Ignite Me

“I am going to MURDER YOU—”
“No,” he says, pointing at me as he shifts backward again. “Bad Juliette. You don’t like to kill people, remember? You’re against that, remember? You like to talk about feelings and rainbows—”
― Tahereh Mafi, Ignite Me

“My voice softens. 'How old are you?'
'I'll be eleven next year.'
I grin. 'So you're ten years old?'
He crosses his arms. Frowns. 'I'll be twelve in two years.'
I think I already love this kid.”
― Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me