Quotes by Sophie Jordan

His hand glides down my arm, folds over my hand. His fingers lace with mine, palms kissing. I can feel the fast thud of his heart through this single touch.

I wish for adventure.I wish to matter.I wish for a home.

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.

Thats what I wanted. Something to enrich me, to make me feel better about the things in my life that I could never change. - Page 56

He may be stronger, but Im not defenseless. He knows that, of coarse. Thats why hes here. He wants me for what I can do after all.

He stares at me so darkly, so hungily that I can only nod. Agree. Of course, I feel it. I do, I admit.

No longer do I fear. No longer do I let others define me. I know what I am. What Im capable of. That Im a girl... a woman who will fight to survive.

Pleasure suffused her and she snuggled deeper into his arms, her heart clenching when he tightened his hold on her. After a while his breathing slowed and his hold relaxed. Convinced he slept, she whispered, You should have been my first. A small ache pinched her heart.His chest vibrated beneath her hand, sending a thrilling shiver up her spine as his deep voice rumbled through the air, Ill be your last.

Ironic. Im here because of my inherent dangerousness, but its my inherent politeness that makes me put up with this. With him.

Before I sought truth. Now I seek justice.

So whats the deal with you and my sister? He laughs shortly and rubs the back of his neck like something is there, tickling, tap

Dont stay away from me anymore.I stop myself, just barely, from telling him I wont. I cant promise that. Cant

But youre worried Ill get in trouble? I try not to show how much this pleases me. Ive managed to ignore him for days now and here I sit. Lapping up his attention like a neglected puppy. My voice takes on an edge. Why do you care? Ive ignored you for days.His smile fades. He looks serious, mockingly so. Yeah. You got to stop that.

I wont let him have you.

Sudden conviction races through me, almost terrifying in its total certainty. I cant give him up. Hes the other part of me. He gets what it feels like to be separate from everything and everyone, to reject the path others lay out for you. Were the same. Two sides to the same coin.

Its unclear who moves first. Were in each others arms, lips locked, melded, hotly fused. Our hands drag over each other, reacquainting, remembering, almost as if were both verifying the other one is real flesh and blood.

When I shoot, the ball bounces hard against the backboard, and flies wildly through the air, knocking the coach in the head. I slap a hand over my mouth. The coach barely catches herself from falling. Several students laugh. She glares at me and readjusts her cap. With a small wave of apology, I head back to the end of the line. Wills there fighting laughter. Nice, he says. Glad Im downcourt of you. I cross my arms and resist smiling, resist letting myself feel good around him. But he makes it hard. I want to smile. I want to like him, to be around him, to know him. Happy to amuse you.

Then again, there’s nothing simple about Will. I think back to what he can do—bend earth, resist shading, his immense strength—and it’s glaringly inaccurate to consider him a human. But then I can’t think of him as a draki either. And this strikes me as sad. Will doesn’t belong anywhere. Not among humans. Not among draki.But he belongs with me. The conviction is still there, as senseless and dangerous as always, seeping into my bones, my heart. A fact I wouldn’t change even if I could.

He stiffens against me, pain written all over the mess of a face. He grabs my face in his hands. Holds me. Its not over. Were not through, Jacinda. His eyes blister, glitter darkly.Ill find you. I will. Well be together again.

I once saw a show about an amputee who lost his leg and still feels it. He actually wakes up at night to scratch his leg as if it’s still there, attached to him. They call it a phantom limb.I would be like that. A phantom draki, tormented with the memory of what I once was.