Kate

“No, but . . . what will she eat?”
“I guess I’ll have to find another source of blood. Hmm, who could it be? Let’s see . . .” I drum my fingers against the edge of the table to create suspense. It sure works on Ana, who’s looking at me gape-mouthed. “Who smells good around—”
Lowe’s hand closes around mine. Our wedding bands clink together as he lifts it from the table and sets it in my lap, his grip lingering for a second. I feel hot. I shiver. Lowe clicks his tongue. “Stop playing with your food, wife,” he murmurs,”
― Ali Hazelwood, Bride

“You know what makes Alphas good leaders?” he asks without looking up. “No clue.” He huffs out a laugh. “Neither do I. But at times, there are decisions that feel right, deep in the marrow of my bones.” He wets his lips. “You are one of them.”
― Ali Hazelwood, Bride

“He makes the phone hand gesture, the one old people use.”
― Ali Hazelwood, Bride

“My smell. Do I smell like…?”
“Mine.” It’s a rumble in his throat. “You smell like you’re mine, Misery.”
― Ali Hazelwood, Bride