Neftali Chavez

“Same plan," agreed Dimitri. "You go to the house. You look less threatening."
"Hey!"
He smiled. "I said look.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“Sex had been amazing, but it wasn't a magical cure for everything. Damn. Somewhere along the way, I'd picked up common sense.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“That's a dangerous look," said Dimitri, giving me a brief glance before returning his eyes to the road.
"What look?" I asked innocently.
"The one that says you just got some idea."
"I didn't just get an idea. I got a great idea.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice

“Find one thing. One thing that's beautiful. Anything. Anything that shows you you're not one of them."

His eyes were back on me studying my face silently. Panic raced through me. It wasn't working. I couldn't do this. We were going to have to get out of here, regardless of whatever state he was in. I knew he'd leave, too. If i had learned anything, it was that Dimitri's warrior instincts were still working. If I said danger was coming, he would respond instantly, no matter the self-torment he felt. I didn't want him to leave in despair. I wanted him to leave here one step closer to being the man I knew he could be. I wanted him to have one less nightmare.

It was beyond my abilities, though. I was no therapist. I was about to tell him we had to get out of there, about to make his soldier reflexes kick in, when he suddenly spoke. His voice was barley a whisper. "Your hair."

"What?" for a second, I wondered if it was on fire or somthing. I touched a stray lock. No, nothing was wrong exept that it was a mess. I'd bound it up for battle to prevent the strgoi from using it as a handhold, like Angeline had. Much of it had come undone in the struggle, though.

"Your hair," repeated Dimitri. His eyes were wide, almost awestruck. "your hair is beautiful.”
― Richelle Mead, Last Sacrifice