Paige

“You almost died tonight, he wanted to say. You dumb son of a bitch, you nearly died ... and then what would we have done?

And not “we” as in the Brotherhood.

Not even “we” as in he and John.

More like … “me”.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Reborn

“The Old Language really was beautiful, Blay thought. Staring at the symbols, for one brief, ridiculous moment he imagined his own name across Qhuinn's shoulders, carved into that smooth skin in the manner of the mating ritual.
Never going to happen. They were destined to be best friends...which, compared to strangers, was something huge. Compared to lovers? It was the cold side of a locked door.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Mine

“His slut of a cousin, his cocksucking, suit-wearing, Montblanc-up-theass cousin Saxton the Magnificent, was standing next to the queen, looking like a combination of Cary Grant and some model in a goddamn cologne ad.
Not that Qhuinn was bitter.
Because the guy was sharing Blay’s bed.
Nah.
Nope. Not at all.”
― J.R. Ward, Lover Reborn