Marina

“Daemon was standing in the doorway of my bedroom. Hair messy from sleep, flannel pajama bottoms rumpled. No shirt. Three feet plus of snow outside, and he was still half naked.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Opal

“A smell of burned hair and cotton wafted into the air as I spun toward my desk. There was a low whine from the desk and then smoke billowed out of my closed laptop.
I gaped.
My precious, perfectly brand new laptop I cherished like one would a small child.
Son of a mother…
Friend or not, it was so on”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Opal

“I keep smiling, giving Ash a little wink before turning around. Daemon stood there with two cups, one eyebrow arched.
"Bad little Kitten," he murmured.
Grinning, I stretch up and kissed him.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Opal

“Daemon spoke in his language. The lyrical quality of his words made no sense to me.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“There’s really no translation for it,” he said, “but the closest human words would be, you are beautiful to me.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Opal