Maya

“You must be tired,” he says, still holding my hand. “And you haven’t eaten much today.”

I let out a slow breath. Griffin’s hand warms mine, making me realize just how cold with worry I’d been.

“I’m not hungry. But I do want to wash and lie down,” I say.

Griffin nods, helping me up. To my everlasting humiliation, I lumber to my feet with a groan. Not long ago, I was walking through fire, riding snakes, and climbing a Cyclops. Today, I suppose I proved I can still move fast when I really want to. Otherwise, it feels like I keep doubling my body weight every time I sit down.

“Gods, Little Bean. You weigh a ton,” I murmur, stretching my aching back. She must already take after her father—big and solid.

Griffin’s mouth quirks up, the small smile bringing some familiar and welcome lightness back into his otherwise drawn features. “I’m assuming I’m not Little Bean in this conversation.”

I snort, taking a shuffling step. My body seems to loosen up once I start moving again—thank the Gods. “You’re Big Bean. Look at you… You’re huge.”
― Amanda Bouchet, Heart on Fire

“What could I become if I stopped worrying about death, about pain, about anything? If I stopped trying to belong? Instead of being afraid, I could become something to fear.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“If you hurt me, I wouldn't cry. I would hurt you back.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince

“I stand in front of my window and imagine myself a fearless knight, imagine myself a witch who hid her heart in her finger and then chopped her finger off.”
― Holly Black, The Cruel Prince