Forcing five-year-olds to spell Vasilisa Dragomir and Rosemarie Hathaway was beyond cruel, and we'd-or… — Richelle Mead

But my other words at the Mastranos’ had betrayed me: I have fun with him. Now, you should have fun with the one you love, but that shouldn’t have been what first came to my mind. I should have said, We strengthen each other, or, He makes me want to be a better person. Perhaps most importantly, He understands me perfectly. But none of that was true, so I hadn’t said those things.

“She was right about something else too,” Dimitri said after a long pause. My back was to him, but there was a strange quality to his voice that made me turn around. “What’s that?” I asked. “That I do still love you.” With that one sentence, everything in the universe changed. Time slowed to one heartbeat. The world became his eyes, his voice. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. None of it could be real. It felt like a spirit dream. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and see if I’d wake up moments later. No. No matter how unbelievable it all seemed, this was no dream. This was real. This was life. This was flesh and blood..

“You’re beautiful in a battle”, said Dimitri. His cold voice carried to me clearly, even above the roar of combat. “ Like an evening angel come to deliver the justice of heaven.” “Funny”, I said, shifting the hold on my stake, “That’s kind of why I’m here.” “Angels fall, Rose.”