Quotes from Elizabeth Morgan

This had to be Hell.Well, my Hell, and funnily enough, my Hell was in a church, surrounded by people I—either do or did—love.

The nearest arched window poured its soft light over him, allowing me to see every inch. Dressed smartly in black loafers and slacks, he wore a thigh-length, black coat. He'd brushed his golden hair back, tucked behind his ears, and his cheeks looked flushed, no doubt due to the bitter, evening air. He looks like an angel in the winter snow. The thought made me growl in irritation. "Hello, Magpie." I couldn't move. "Adrian.

I stumbled away. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth and just looked at him. "What was that?" His chest rose and fell heavily. "A kiss." "Why?" "Why?" He laughed. His blue eyes suddenly looked so sad. "Because I've wanted to do that for twenty years.

Killing me still on the agenda, tough girl?" I walked over to the desk. "Yup, right here next to buy Brendan a leash." "Glad to know you have a sense of humour." "I wasn't joking." I mumbled, knowing he would be able to hear me.

A sly smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as he peered into the trunk. "Why do you have Robin Hood's toy chest?" - Brendan Daniels

The corners of his lips picked up. "You really didn't know I've been following you for the last five weeks?" Yeah, please feel free to make me feel stupid for that, Ken doll. I shook my head. "Well, of course not, because if you knew someone was watching you, you probably wouldn't have given yourself a spanking on the roof." And just like that, the man turned the humour back on. Weird. - Chapter 3: Heather and Brendan

How long are you planning on us sitting up here, kid?" Brendan asked. I looked over at him. He sat still, with his head leant back against the rooftop wall, his eyes closed, his hands resting on his lap. "Sorry, is being here getting in the way of your beauty sleep?" "I don't need beauty sleep, kid. I'm naturally this good-looking." I snorted. "Whatever makes you feel good, Shifter." No point boosting his ego.

Can you stop calling me kid?" I snapped. "It may have escaped your attention, but I am not actually a child." The left corner of his mouth crept upward. "It hasn't escaped my attention.

She had never been so affected by the idea of intimacy, but there was something about his eyes; something warm, and gentle even though she felt transparent every time he turned his attention on her; like he could see her, really see her. The idea of being so exposed to someone…it took her breath away.

You were supposed to be a Werewolf, Brendan, so that you would be in her world. To be the strength she needs when she no longer has strength of her own, to show her the reasons to survive and to live.

It has nothing to do with you—" "It has everything to do with me that you want to get yourself fucking killed." He snarled, the words tight and full of iron. "Losing you is not an option.

I lifted my head, my gaze meeting his. "Wanting something doesn't guarantee you will get it." "A man can still hope." "I've never had much room for hope.

I've been as good as dead since the day I was born. I accepted that a very long time ago.

It is vital that you do not change the path before you. I have told you, many times, that certain events must happen in a person's life for a reason, always for a reason. The events that will unfold before you...they must happen, Heather. They have to.

You have always been home for me, and nothing has been the same without you...

You have to stop doing, you know, human stuff," I called. "It is seriously creepy coming from a wolf.

We'll be all right. Somehow, we will. Trust it is the truth.

I should have wanted you. I wanted so much to want you.

His lips turned upward. "Man told you to lick salt off me, but he didn't say where you would be licking the salt from.

Let the past go, Bren, or it will ruin your future.

Italy is another Pack's territory. You're a guest; make sure that you are a polite one." God, I hope he told Heather that.

I have nothing I want to ask you, and if I did, you would probably lie anyway." "I'm drunk. Drunk people tell the truth." "Like hell they do. Besides you're not that drunk." "Then dare me something." I snorted. "No, because I'm not that drunk, or stupid.

I indicated to Karl slumped on the stool next to Clare at the bar. The fucking jerk didn't deserve a free lap dance, but it was the only way to get him away from Clare without ripping out his jugular.

I haven't stopped thinking about anything you have said." She looked down at the worktop. "You're not perfect, Owen, and I apologize for pointing it out to you on so many occasions. I honestly didn't think you were serious until last night, but you're right, I do want you. I always have." She looked up at me. "So, why would I walk away from you now?