Heather C

“You have never laid your pride down, Freyrík. Not once, for me or anyone. You don't know what it means to give that up, even for a moment. And yet you ask it of me again and again and again! Tell me, Freyrík, what more can you wring from me? Have I not done enough for you to trust me, gods crack you?”
― Rachel Haimowitz, Crescendo

“A little frotting did not equal a marriage proposal.”
― Anonymous

“I am not warm. That is why my sister chose the name Winter for me.”
― Paula Stokes, Vicarious

“What did he owe the man—half-man, but wholly male—who’d raped, branded, enslaved and humiliated him? Only, as vivid as those memories were, the irritating, painful, even frightening ones—there were others that came later, which stirred things within him. Bloodraven, biting back hereditary impatience to attempt the teaching of a difficult language. Bloodraven, sharing campfire cooking tips—sharing the secrets of mountain roots that made edible, if not always palatable, meals. Bloodraven, speaking haltingly of dreams that he’d always held close to his heart. Bloodraven, fighting a lifetime of instinct and wanting the opinions, the history, the company of a human. Guilt, protectiveness—a fondness so unpracticed that it might entirely be mistaken for something else.”
― P.L. Nunn