Lu

“And, I, Easton Royal, am bound by the laws of the universe to pursue all things interesting.”
― Erin Watt, Fallen Heir

“Miss Melbourne?
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You might want to do something about your neck.”
I was totally lost. “My neck?”
She reached into her purse and handed me a compact mirror. I opened it and
surveyed my neck, still trying to figure out what she could be talking about.
Then I saw it. A small, brownish purple bruise on the side of my neck.
“What on earth is that?” I exclaimed.
Ms. Terwilliger snorted. “Although it’s been a while for me, I believe the technical term is a hickey.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “You do know what that is, don’t you?”
“Of course I know!” I lowered the mirror. “But there’s no way—I mean, we barely—that is—”

I have a hickey. I let Adrian Ivashkov give me a hickey.

We had another minute before we would reach my dorm, so I sent a quick text
to Adrian: "I have a hickey! You can’t ever kiss me again."
I honestly hadn’t expected him to be awake this early, so I was surprised to get a response: "Okay. I won’t kiss you on your neck again."
So typical of him. "No! You can’t ever kiss me ANYWHERE. You said you were going to keep your distance".
"I’m trying," he wrote back. "But you won’t keep your distance from me."”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell

“Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must.”
― Holly Black, The Queen of Nothing

“I’ll be damned. You found him.”
“Thanks to you,” I said.
Adrian glanced over at me. A smile started to form—and then instantly dried up. “What happened to your face?”
“Oh.Marcus hit me.”
I’d never seen Adrian move so fast. Marcus had no chance to react, probably because he was exhausted from our earlier encounter. Adrian shoved Marcus up against a wall and—to my complete and utter astonishment—punched Marcus.
Adrian had once joked that he never dirtied his hands, so this was something I never could have prepared myself for. In fact, if Adrian was going to attack someone, I would’ve expected something magical and spirit-driven.
Yet . . . as I watched him, I could see that anything as thoughtful as magic was far from Adrian’s mind. He had kicked into primal mode. See a threat. Go after it.
It was yet another surprising—yet fascinating—side of the enigma that was Adrian Ivashkov.”
― Richelle Mead, The Indigo Spell