Laila

“Serena is the name by which my sister calls me. The name on my diploma. The name Koen whispered in my ear last night. Eva might be what Fiona chose when I was a child, but it belongs to someone who was at mercy of others, someone who doesn’t exist even in her own memories. Serena was a spur-of-the-moment decision by a nurse, but it’s my name because I made it so. Everything I built is attached to it.”
― Ali Hazelwood, Mate

“What Misery is to Lowe, you are to me.”
Oh.
Oh?
Oh. “Is this a, um… terminal diagnosis?”
His lips twitch. “No cure, I’m afraid.”
“I see.” I clear my throat. “Well, this relationship sure escalated quickly.”
― Ali Hazelwood, Mate

“I was being a patient, considerate, respectful, non-intrusive, accommodating mate. I was trying to—”
“Koen, you are the most intrusive mate ever. You never stop staring at me when we’re in the same room, you wake me up to have sex in the middle of the night, you keep tearing my clothes, and you want to be with me every second you’re not gone on pack business. You’re not really the space-giving kind of partner, and—”
“I’m trying. I could be way fucking worse.”
“—and I’m not complaining, because I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
― Ali Hazelwood, Mate

“He’s big, too— as in, big. Just a couple of inches taller than Lowe, but approximately ninety times more intimidating. It’s because Lowe feels domesticated, a wise, instinctual voice explains from the recesses of my skull. Lowe can, and will, control and pace himself. Koen is a wild card. Koen is raw. Koen will do whatever the hell he—”
― Ali Hazelwood, Mate