N.J. Lysk > Quotes

“He didn’t see any of his siblings on the way out, and he didn’t think it was because it was late. His mother was quiet for once, no reassurances, not even her usual expressions of unconditional love as she walked them to the door. He felt her gaze on him as Josh led him to the car, but he didn’t look back.
He couldn’t. He felt if he tried, he’d freeze, trapped forever between what he’d been and what he was, forever longing for something that no longer existed.”
― N.J. Lysk, Omega for the Pack

“It was easy. It didn’t require thought to push closer, to roll faster into the wave of their shared pleasure, a rhythm they didn’t need to discuss—it simply was. A truth they had just needed to let surface from the depths as if they’d hid it from themselves by some trick of the light, or the darkness. Maybe just fear—the kind that lived at the heart of every great love.”
― N.J. Lysk, Beloved of the Pack

“He pressed his thumbs against Iesu's hipbones, caressing the underside of his dick with his tongue and swallowing the salty, sticky precome. He couldn't say he enjoyed the taste, exactly, but... he glanced up, right past Iesu's heaving chest—shirt sticking to his perky nipples—and at his upturned chin where he'd left his whole throat exposed. Vulnerable and at his mercy.

And blowing a guy was supposed to be submissive.”
― N.J. Lysk, Simpler than Most

“Sounds like you are learning a lot from this alpha of yours,” Carry commented slyly. Keenan caught him smiling in Thomas direction, eyes bright under the dim solar-powered streetlamps the newer neighbourhoods were made to install.

Maybe it was for the best. For the planet, and for Keenan’s peace of mind.”
― N.J. Lysk, Cracking Ice

“I love you,” I said, and if people say it gets easier the more you say, they’re bullshitting you. It’s the opposite, it gets harder. Because every time you say, you’ve loved them for a longer time, they’ve become more integral to who you are. At some point, “I love you” also means “I need you” and there is nothing more terrifying than admitting that to another person who can walk out any time they like. But I owed it to him, not the love, that he’d earned himself. No, I owed him the truth and the trust because he’d offered them to me. You can love someone on your own, even if they can’t feel the same for you, but truth needs to be heard, and trust needs to be returned.”
― N.J. Lysk, The Parenting Habits of Werewolves

“Lyall wanted Tristan’s kisses and his body and to have him close enough his scent would permeate rooms and make him smile when he walked into them. But he didn’t want it more than he wanted Tristan’s words, rushed in a voice messages and often too formal in emails, and in perfectly composed lectures full of masterful analogies. And not just for him, but for other people who needed to hear they didn’t have to be trapped by the vicissitudes of chance, that their bodies could be coaxed into allowing them enough freedom to find happiness—for without freedom there was no happiness possible.
The distance would be harder, but it did not mean more than their closeness.”
― N.J. Lysk, Runt of the litter

“He met Ray’s eyes. He knew it was hard to believe but Sergi did believe it. Believe in him. He knew how strong Ray was, and if he’d ever doubted it, his resilience in the face of the shitty cards he’d been dealt would have been more than enough. He didn’t know how to say it so Ray would believe him, though.
"I spent a lot of time fighting with you,” he said in the end. “I figure I know what you're made of by now."
He couldn’t tell if Ray believed him, but sometimes all you could do was offer your faith. Again and again, a prayer and an offering, and hope someone was listening.”
― N.J. Lysk, Simpler than Most

“Another barbecue?” Sorina asked walking in. She was carrying a tray so big Irina didn’t see how she’d fit it on the table. She looked way bigger than she’d been the last time Irina had seen her too.
“Whoa, how many people are you feeding?” she asked, rushing towards the table to make room.
“People?” Sorina replied. “I think you mean wolves.”
― N.J. Lysk, Betas Aside

“Sometimes Marisa pretended she needed the toilet when she didn’t. But she didn’t feel guilty about it: the secret of strength wasn’t perseverance, it was pacing. You had to know your limits and you had to respect them. She didn’t ask her body to go beyond what it could do, why should she treat her mind with less respect?”
― N.J. Lysk, Betas Aside

“Si era preparato, come per andare in battaglia, qualora la battaglia fosse diventata necessaria. Un vero re doveva essere pronto a sacrificare tutto per la sua gente; era l’unico modo per ottenere la loro lealtà e i privilegi che derivavano da una vita da sovrano.”
― N.J. Lysk, The Will of Heaven

“I’m in the middle of a sentence when he grunts in displeasure, but I force myself to set my book down and turn to him. Dzyer gives me a nod and asks if Lambians really prohibit royal women from touching forged steel for fear of them contaminating themselves? I explain that they don’t really speak of it, then recall that I got a few weird looks for carrying a weapon. Of course, early on I also got looks for wearing what Lambians consider ‘masculine’ clothing and forgetting that in their language verbs are conjugated differently depending the sex of the speaker and the person referred to. Efficient, one would think, to know something about who is performing an action but confusing because the action itself does not change.”
― N.J. Lysk, The Realm of the Impossible

“Ray wanted an egalitarian relationship, there was no way in hell he was putting anyone through anything even close to what he'd been through. Revenge was just violence dressed up as justice, not the real thing.”
― N.J. Lysk, Beloved of the Pack

“I’m gay, mate,” he told him when Sergi couldn't help but ask. “I got over all my hang-ups like a decade ago.”

“Doesn't mean you want people to catch you at it!”

Iesu raised an eyebrow at him. “We are in the middle of nowhere and the only people who live here are werewolves with both superhearing and supernoses; only reason to catch us is if they want a free show.”
― N.J. Lysk, Simpler than Most

“I never even understood why I needed to shift to learn to swordfight. But the fight earlier has ensured that I am now very aware of how very little command I have of that body and therefore; how underprepared I am for any physical confrontation.
It is for this very reason the royal line is made of shifters: we are meant to be the woman with the strength of mind and the man with the strength of body in one person. The perfect balance that might never be defeated. Except that for all we do not need choose one over the other, everybody else does and since the mind is undoubtedly superior, so is the female form that allows its greater expression. Because their strength must be beyond question, queens are meant to show no fear and to have no need of the strength of their bodies.
Or at least, it had been an effective argument when convincing my mother to ignore the traditional physical training. Particularly because Dzyer seemed inclined to be my other half in that arena. Something I had pointed out to Mother with ulterior motives but that I had believed stupidly and wholeheartedly.
But Dzyer is not my half, he is a person in his own right. A person I had not thought to shield from, either in body or in mind.
“That cannot be… healthy,” he tells me. It has clearly never occurred to him to be my half or for me to be his. He is whole and I am in pieces.”
― N.J. Lysk, The Realm of the Impossible

“I like you,” his friend said, and it sounded like an admission. It had to be an admission, following what Josh had said about liking men, even as Josh insisted, “I really like you, Ray.”

Even as Ray arched into the soft, feathery kisses Josh was planting down his throat, he realised he wanted to know more. But the words wouldn’t come. He let his eyes flutter closed to focus on the sensation of Josh’s mouth and Josh’s hand sliding up his naked thigh, pulling his shorts down. Whatever else Josh felt or didn’t feel, this was true, he thought. His hands and his mouth and the way he was already hardening again against Ray’s side. He hadn’t asked about himself in particular, himself… before. He didn’t know how.

He knew he was wanted, but he didn’t know how to ask if he was loved.”
― N.J. Lysk, Alpha for the Pack

“The moment it was over I knew I shouldn’t have done it. It was fucked up on so many levels that it didn’t even feel right to hold Dan close to me in what had been our bed less than a month earlier. Dan loved me, I knew he did. It wasn’t fair of me to lead him on, even if I had broken up with him just before fucking him. But it wasn’t just that, the rest of it wasn’t right either. The knowledge of what I no longer was in my family’s view but forever, for whoever looked upon me, marked on my body, a lack so fundamental and obvious that some would refuse to call me a man. And what would happen to me because of that, the way my body was even in that moment changing to accommodate someone else’s desires, the way I was becoming what Brennan had decided I needed to be. For the first time, it wasn’t a mere omission but an outright lie. To be in that bed next to Dan was taking up the space that belonged to someone else, someone we had both loved and who was now gone. That life was over, done.”
― N.J. Lysk, The Mating Habits of Werewolves

“Sometimes you couldn’t do much to change the fucked up circumstances, but even then everyone had to eat and drink. At least they were lucky enough they could afford the treats and the comfort—it hadn’t always been the case for Marisa and Ray.
They’d never gone hungry—the pack wouldn’t have allowed it—but they’d grown up knowing money was short, learned not to ask for the newest toys or fancy clothes. They’d learned it and they’d taught it, and maybe that was the hardest part of all—not just to say no once or twice, but to explain to a child that there were certain things that others had that were out of your family’s reach.”
― N.J. Lysk, Betas Aside

“Gabriel's eyes widened, blue and startled. He was stupidly beautiful, but Ray didn't really care about the regularity of his features. He wanted the tenderness on his face, the insecurity born from love—it wasn't possible to love someone and not be a little afraid they'd break. Anything and anyone you loved was always too fragile for your taste, too likely to be damaged—by the world but also by your own words and actions. He straightened, and Ray thought he might cross the space between them. Instead, he opened his arms in invitation and kept his eyes steady on Ray's face—vulnerable and open to Ray's refusal.
Ray wasn't sure this was a good idea, but he couldn't leave someone he loved exposed like that without responding.”
― N.J. Lysk, Beloved of the Pack

“Quincy’s long dark hair had come loose from the leather band he used to keep it back and Mar reached out and touched it with an ungloved hand, the pleasure of the texture echoing through the wide-open bond. A moment later, he sensed Quincy’s reluctant joy, something almost close to embarrassment that made Valgar look at his face.
He was flushed, which could easily be the effect of the cold on his pale skin, but...

His omega raised his eyes across the outcrop where they had sat to picnic and Valgar realised he was smiling. How could he do otherwise when their happiness was flooding him? He concentrated on Quincy now, trying to push the emotion through the tentative connection between them.”
― N.J. Lysk, A Quiet Fire

“Lanchester was a sleepy English town where nothing ever happened—if you didn't count half the population turning into wolves every full moon and running wild in the fields and forests around town. Maybe that's what kept the locals inside this late, some sort of leftover instinct from when humans had known about shifters—before science had told them the truth was impossible.”
― N.J. Lysk, Protectors of the Pack

“I like you,” his friend said, and it sounded like an admission. It had to be an admission, following what Josh had said about liking men, even as Josh insisted, “I really like you, Ray.”

Even as Ray arched into the soft, feathery kisses Josh was planting down his throat, he realised he wanted to know more. But the words wouldn’t come. He let his eyes flutter closed to focus on the sensation of Josh’s mouth and Josh’s hand sliding up his naked thigh, pulling his shorts down. Whatever else Josh felt or didn’t feel, this was true, he thought. His hands and his mouth and the way he was already hardening again against Ray’s side. He hadn’t asked about himself in particular, himself… before. He didn’t know how.

He knew he was wanted, but he didn’t know how to ask if he was loved.

He didn’t know how to ask if it was him or the omega wolf. But that wasn’t the real problem; he could have accepted either answer—painful as it might have been. It was something else that scared him: that maybe Josh couldn’t tell the difference. And that… that Ray couldn’t bear.”
― N.J. Lysk, Alpha for the Pack

“Love was time, most of all—the time you gave, the one you were given.”
― N.J. Lysk, Not Destiny

“But, in the end, there was the only thing that meant I could live with myself after what had happened with Devlin: you had to trust the other person to tell you what they wanted. You had to give them the right to fuck up. Without that, they might be happier with the situation, but you weren’t treating them like a person. People asked for things when they weren’t sure, or even when they didn’t want them, they made sacrifices and they compromised. It was a choice, and they had to have the freedom to make it. Even if the only way they could have it was because you gave them that freedom. Because you were willing to believe they were capable of deciding.”
― N.J. Lysk, Alphas Alone

“Hiram finse di essersi addormentato... una piccola debolezza che nessuno avrebbe potuto smascherare.
Quando la finzione divenne realtà, lui trovò finalmente sollievo in un mondo che non era impazzito”
― N.J. Lysk, The Will of Heaven

“He didn’t imagine hockey was a very likely career for any of them—they weren’t even playing on skates—but if they could just believe in something... In themselves, a little bit, in the world giving them a chance, in other people being worth getting to know…
If he could, somehow, offer them that much. Or even if all he did was make their week better. Hell, he’d take making their day a little less worse. It’d make him happy too and joy wasn’t something to be squandered.”
― N.J. Lysk, Not Destiny