Lycanthrope Quotes

“I've done smarter things in my life. Once, for example, I threw myself out of a moving car in order to take on a truckload of lycanthropes singlehandedly."
~Harry Dresden”
― Jim Butcher

“My goal is that Julie and Brody do not become the other's half. They should be two wholes that become a greater one. That is the only way to overcome evil in the end.”
― Melissa D. Ellis

“The boundary between the real and the unreal had been let down in Foote's mind, and between the comings and goings of the cloud-shadows and the dark errands of the ghosts there was no longer any way of making a selection. He had entered the cobwebby borderland between the human and the animal, where nothing is ever more than half true, and only as much as half true for the moment.

("There Shall Be No Darkness")”
― james blish, Zacherley's Vulture Stew

“With her face tilted up to his, the subtle edge of moonlight touched along the edge of one high cheekbone, the tilted edge of one eye, and those beautiful, enticing lips. Obeying an impulse he couldn’t put into words, he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“Just when I was coping with the idea that I’d necked with a werewolf,” she muttered. “Just when I was beginning to flirt with the idea of possibly… possibly inviting sex with a werewolf. I’m trying to imagine how I would tell this story to my best friend. I think it would go something like this: See, I’ve never seen him in daylight. He’s just this werewolf guy.”
Beside her, he had stiffened. Very quietly, he said, “Sex?”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“He did nothing in return. She couldn’t force him to act.
She began to pull away, but one of his hands spanned the back of her neck, keeping her in place. Then his lips moved over hers, at first tentative with the lightest touch as if he expected hell and damnation to rain down. Then he pressed in for a real kiss, pulling her tight to him until every possible part of his hard body made contact with hers.
Wow. Oh wow. She forgot about all external pain. Electricity shot through her. This was a kiss.
He moved his hands to either side of her face. Her heart swelled from how much the move made her feel cherished. This wasn’t the move of a spy-assassin-killer about to ram a knife in her gut. His mouth returned to hers and moved down her neck to her shoulder to lick over one of her wounds. “Your beautiful skin this damaged makes me furious. If that asshole wasn’t dead, I’d rip him to shreds.”
― Zoe Forward, Bad Moon Rising

“He returned to the table with a pile of pastries and two coffees.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Let’s figure out what you like.” He waved at the pastries. How thoughtful.
She picked up a small biscuit cookie to nibble but shook her head. “Too crunchy.”
“Try the scone,” he recommended.
One bite. “Nope. No scones. Maybe I’m not a pastry person.”
“I’m taking notes over here.” He almost spit out his sip of coffee from laughter when she had to empty her mouth into a small napkin after biting into a cheesy sweet concoction.
“Sorry.” Her face went hot. “I’ll stick with croissants. What about you? What do you like?”
He shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
“Is it bad to be picky? Does it mean I’m high maintenance?”
“Maybe you’re not into sweets.”
“If I dribbled chocolate all over you, I’d lick it off and like it.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Did I just say that out loud? Forget I said that.”
“No undoing that. It’s stuck in here.” He tapped his head. “Moon madness.”
“It’s mid-morning. There’s no moon in the sky.”
He peeked out the window. “Maybe not a full moon, but there’s one in the sky. This insanity is our bodies cranking up for the main event later today.”
His eyes traveled down her body and back up; he wet his lips with his tongue.
Her mind flashed back to the moment his lips were on hers, the way his fingers had dug into her, the desperation flowing from his fingertips. Things were about to get a lot more interesting as the day wore on.
In silence, they ate for a while.
She leaned back and stared at him. “You may have to answer to someone, but you like what you do most of the time. Why do you do it? Save humans against things that bump in the night?”
“I’m cursed to follow orders.”
“Sure, you’re forced into some things, but that only goes so far.”
He wiped a few crumbs off the table. “Perhaps so. It’s a good cause. Most of the time. Occasionally, the missions we’re ordered on are based on erroneous information.”
She reached out and put her hand over his. “I might be as bad as they made me out. I don’t remember. I appreciate you trying to help me figure it out, but if I start to show an inclination toward evil or world domination, do your job.”
He rotated his hand to hold hers and stared at their connection. “The fact you considered it means you’re not someone I should kill.”
“We don’t know.” She removed her hand from his. “Tell me something about yourself. What pastry do you like? Are you a scones person?”
He shook his head. “I’m not into a lot of sweets, but I’ve realized I like chocolate.”
― Zoe Forward, Bad Moon Rising

“A bad guy? He smothered a smile at the naiveté of the
question. “Do you wish I was your heroic rescuer? That’s cute.”
“You didn’t do any rescuing. That part was all me.”
“I’m no one’s hero anyway. Most label me an abomination. It’s my lot in life. I do scary things beyond what you could even imagine. It’s why you’re best off if you get out of the car. Go your own way.”
“You do scary things? Like pick up a girl and murder her on the side of the road?”
“Are you frightened?”
“I’m terrified,” she said sarcastically without a hint of fear. “You lumped us together earlier when you said ‘our kind,’ so I assume I also do bad things.”
“You killed that guy in the club.”
“You mean the one who planned to shoot you in the heart?”
“I’m not saying I feel bad for him. Just pointing out murder’s not exactly a heroine move.”
“So I’m a bad girl? You like that, don’t you?” She stared out the window, her lips compressed against a smile. “I like it.”
Holy shit, she was incredible.
He dealt with the deadliest of preternatural creatures on a daily basis. His servitude to the Crown required he hunt down and destroy paranormal threats bent on power, greed, or world domination.
But he’d never encountered someone like her.”
― Zoe Forward, Bad Moon Rising

“The heart knows no fear when it’s fueled by passion, even when surrounded by danger”
― Lauren Woody

“I can’t get enough of you,” he said against her neck. “When I walk away from you I feel like I’ve cut myself off from breathing.”
― Thea Harrison, Spellbinder

“She was foolish to be walking alone at this ungodly hour when demi-gods like himself roamed in search of prey. He would pick this flower, uproot her from the soil. He would part her from her source of life. Her head, hands, and feet were the soft petals, her blood the sweet nectar. She walked by him, ignorant of the brutality that would soon befall her.”
― Asher Sharol, Vampires of Twilight Castle

“I should be dead. But I’m not human, am I?” She swiped a tear of frustration off her face. “Whatever I am makes me stronger, faster, and scary as hell when fighting. I changed, scaled the top of a moving truck, and fought a guy shooting a gun at me.” She ran her hand across her face to wipe away the tears. “I’m a mess. The mud in that ravine got in all the cracks, even my underwear. But the injuries are already almost gone, and somehow, I know all this will heal. Based on you being all pissy, I assume your meeting didn’t go well.”
“It took an unanticipated turn.” His tone was odd as he continued to stare at her.
“What exactly do you do that involves secrecy and the Crown?”
“I can’t tell you.” Something about how he looked at her was different. Her skin tingled like it had before she’d shifted. Survival instinct flared.
“Did they order you to…kill me?” It came out of her on a fatigued exhale. Her shoulders drooped.
His face remained remote as if trying to wall off emotion. He neither confirmed nor denied, which might as well have been a screaming affirmative.
She dropped her chin.
He said nothing, so she looked up. He stared intently at her, making her almost shrink in place under the gaze of those thunderous eyes.
“Is this when you tell me to leave again?” she asked. “Would you go?”
“If they ordered you to kill me, wouldn’t you be forced to come after me? To hunt me down? So, what’s the point in me running unless you like the hunt?”
He pushed his hand through his dark hair and stepped away from her. Frustration oozed from him. Seeing him start to lose some of his composure made him less threatening. He wasn’t the robot assassin. She wanted to run her fingers through his thick hair and down his scruff-roughened chiseled jawline to soothe him. Would her touch, if done in comfort, affect him the way she suspected his touch would destroy her?
From the way he simply stared at her, she guessed yes. The silence was killing her. “What’s going on here?” “No idea.” He muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t make out.
He stepped toward her and slid a finger under her chin to tilt her face upward. Their eyes met and held. “I’m sorry someone hurt you. That you had to fight for your life and went through a windshield.” In a whisper, he added, “I should’ve been there.”
The grit in his voice, the despair, as if he’d let her down, packed one hell of a punch.
What was she supposed to do with that?
Oh dear…God. His hold on her face, how his thumb gently stroked over the skin on her jaw…
How he moved in so she could feel the hard surfaces of his body, the concrete chest and abs…
All of it swirled together, turning her mind to mush, which was bad when she needed to remain alert. Death… her death was on the line. But she was about to make a very bad decision to let him do whatever the hell he wanted after that declaration.
“I made a promise to erase Dom’s kiss. To make you forget. I never go back on my promises.”
Like his promise to help her get answers?
He didn’t lower his head, but stood there, hesitant. “You’re too hurt right now.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She slid her good hand up his shoulders and neck. His muscles twitched under her touch, and his chest rose and fell more rapidly. Feeling how much just her hand on him affected him encouraged her to continue. Cradling the back of his head, she pressed her body into his. As she pulled him toward her mouth, his incredible size and power registered but didn’t intimidate. Didn’t scare her.
Her mouth touched his. Warmth on warmth. Once… Twice… Three times. His lips were a lot softer than they appeared. The roughness of his facial scruff scratched her skin.”
― Zoe Forward, Bad Moon Rising

“She palpated the edges of the wound. “So, I’m like you…werewolf—no, lycan? Am I some sort of science experiment?”
He became utterly still, giving her a chance to see he wasn’t lying when he said this. “You’re not human. You have to remember this. I don’t know how one of us could ever believe otherwise, even if we lost our memory. Maybe if someone hypnotized you into believing yourself human, I could buy you not remembering. Knowing what you are is as basic as knowing how to walk. We are lycanthropes. Lycans.”
No one said anything for several long moments of silence. Even Flynn seemed to have stopped breathing from wherever he stood behind them. Flynn was probably looking at her again. Why did that make him want to punch his brother, whom he trusted with his life?
Skepticism laced her tone. “Can I change into a dog or something?”
“No. That’s a human urban myth. We do change to become stronger when necessary, like I did in the hangar. In our feral form, we can do many superhuman things, but it’s not an ugly creature covered in hair like in the movies. You almost did the shift at the club. It’s why I distracted you both times. You can’t do that in public.”
“You’re lycan, too, Flynn?” she asked. “Does that mean you both got bitten at the same time?”
“What?” Flynn shot a shocked glance at Roman. “Bitten? What the actual hell?”
“Chill. She’s got no clue,” Roman said in a calm tone.
“Of course I’m lycan.” At her skeptical eyebrow raise, Flynn groaned theatrically and rolled his eyes. “It’s genetic, not something like in the movies where a bite will turn you. I was born this way. My parents were 100 percent lycan, as were theirs. And yours. It’s a different species than humans.”
She asked, “Why do I believe so strongly I’m a person, that I’m human?”
Roman shrugged
“Superspeed healing?” She touched her side.
“The older we get, the more rapidly we heal. That speed means you must be at least fifty, maybe older.”
“How old are you?”
“A lot older.”
“You think I’m fifty? I look maybe early twenties.” She nibbled her lower lip. “How long do you…we live?”
Roman shrugged. “Centuries. I don’t know any that died of natural causes.”
“What about that spooky guy named Antonio? Is he like us?”
Both Roman and Flynn exchanged glances.
“You didn’t know what he was?” Flynn asked.
Roman said, “He’s a vampire, not exactly a friend of our species.” They had yet to pin down if Antonio was involved with the dealer who peddled black magic artifacts like the vial. But every time they found something deadly like it, he lurked about.
“Maybe that’s why I didn’t like him. Probably good I didn’t act on one of the five ways I envisioned he could die.”
He was staring at her.
“Yeah, probably smart,” he muttered.”
― Zoe Forward, Bad Moon Rising