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Better to die fighting monsters, than to live cowering at their feet.

"Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo," I whispered into the shadows. "For you, my carus. Always."
It was a promise.
If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise hell.

“She needs monsters,” he said, turning to reveal the mutilated side of his head. “Precisely because she’s not one.” His smirk was rabid, a carnivore in the body of a man. “That’s why she has us.”

"I'm yours," I said as the rain roared around us. "You can break my legs, but I'll still crawl after you. If you're injured, I will carve myself to pieces to make you whole ... every ... single ... time. This is not a temporary arrangement. We will be together. Forever. Or I'll be dead."