Luzie

“She is my mate. And my spy,' I said too quietly. 'And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.'
'What?' Mor whsipered.
I caressed a mental finger down that bond now hidden deep, deep within us, and said, 'If they had removed her other glove, they would have seen a second tatoo on her right arm. The twin to the other. Inked last night, when we crept out, found a priestess, and I swore her in as my High Lady.' (...) 'Not consort, not wife. Feyre is High Lady of the Night Court.' My equal in every way; she would wear my crown, sit on a throne beside mine. Never sidelined, never designated to breeding and parties and child rearing. My queen.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“What rhymes with insensitive?” I tap my pen on the kitchen table, beyond frustrated with my current task. Who knew rhyming was so fucking difficult?

Garrett, who’s dicing onions at the counter, glances over. “Sensitive,” he says helpfully.

“Yes, G, I’ll be sure to rhyme insensitive with sensitive. Gold star for you.”
― Elle Kennedy, The Mistake

“My friend through many dangers. My lover who had healed my broken and weary soul. My mate who had waited for me against all hope, despite all odds.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Hey! I thought you said you were gay!” the man said accusingly.
Without missing a beat Jason said, “She is. I’m just her bitch.”
― R.L. Mathewson, Playing for Keeps