Mariela

“Oh gods.'

'Which one are you calling out for?' he asks against my flesh. 'Because it's just you and me in this room, Vi, and I don't share.'

'You.' My fingers tangle in his hair. 'I'm calling out for you.'

'I appreciate the elevation to deity, but my name will do.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“We hadn't even kissed, and I fell.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“His eyes darken. “I’m going to keep you,” he promises, just like he did last night. Or was it this morning? “You’re mine, Violet.” I lift my chin. “Only if you’re mine.” “I’ve been yours for longer than you could ever imagine.” As if the words untether him, he clutches the nape of my neck and kisses me long and hard, stealing every breath, every thought beyond the sweep of his tongue and the rising tide of need that heats my skin.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing

“You still love me. It's possible." Gods, do I ache to kiss her, to remind her exactly what we are together, but I won't, not until she asks. "I'm not afraid of hard work, especially not when I know just how sweet the rewards are. I would rather loose this entire war than live without you, and if that means I have to prove myself over and over, then I'll do it. You gave me your heart, and I'm keeping it." She already owns mine, even if she doesn't realize it.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Fourth Wing