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Dimitri seemed like the kind of guy you could throw into the wilderness and he would survive off anything.

Richelle Mead

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Richelle Mead
Age: 48
Born: 1976
Born: November 12
Author
Novelist
Writer
Michigan
United States
Seemed
Guy
Anything
Kind
Would
Like
Wilderness
Survive
Throw

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Really, it's my fault. It was there. A hundred times there. How often did I see it? I knew. It kept happening. Over and over, you'd say you were through with him...and over and over, I'd believe it...no matter what my eyes showed me. No matter what my heart told me. My. Fault.
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I saw endless depths of brown, the depths I'd fallen into so many times. No red rings. Dimitri...was not a Strigoi. And he was weeping.
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I'd do a lot of things to protect you.
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By the way, my name's Rose Hathaway. I'm seventeen years old, training to protect and kill vampires, in love with a completely unsuitable guy, and have a best friend whose weird magic could drive her crazy. Hey, no one said high school was easy.
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I'm telling you, I wanted to. But I was trapped. You of all people should know what it's like being caught between groups
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Eugenie, my sweet, your outraged protests are adorable, but they only continue to slow us down. If you want me to help you, then let me. If you don't, then take me to one of those places where human women wear revealing clothing and quickly lose their virtue through alcohol.
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The future is always changing. If we had no choices, there'd be no point in living.
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I nearly dropped the plate I held. You've asked me out tons of times. Not really. I've made inapproprite suggestions and frequently pushed for nudity. But I've never asked you out on a real date. And, if memory serves, you did say you'd give me a fair chance once I let you clean out my trust fund. I didn't clean it out, I scoffed.
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I didn’t care about anything except her and the way touching her drove me wild, even as her calm and steady presence soothed the storms that raged within me.
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Yeah according to my- Hey, are you staring at my chest? -Rose to Adrian
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I’m still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy ever will. -Adrian-
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Where are you going? he asked. To break someone's heart, I replied.
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I don’t belong to anyone. I make my own choices. And you’re with Adrian, said Dimitri. But I was meant for you.
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I clung to that spark of hope, nurturing it into a small flame that chased some of the shadows in my heart away.
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Promises. I was drowning in promises.
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Having your own, um, cave at eighteen is pretty cool.
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Donʹt worry now about what you canʹt change. Rest when you can so youʹll be ready for tomorrowʹs battles
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His warmth was all around me, as was his love, and again, I felt that completeness. I had that missing piece of my word back. The soul that complemented mine. My match. My equal. Not only that, I had my life back -my own life. I would protect Lissa, I would serve, but I was finally my own person.
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Sydney: Ever had that happen? Once you can’t have something, you want it that much more.” Adrian: “Yes. It happens all the time.
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I’d mentioned this odd wardrobe choice to Adrian a couple of weeks ago: “Isn’t Dimitri hot?” Adrian’s response hadn’t been entirely unexpected: “Well, yeah, according to most women, at least.
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