All right," sighed Madrigal. "To the baths, then. To make ourselves shiningly clean."
Like vegetable, she thought, before they go in the stew.
oh, good, Pestilence is free," said Karou, heading towards the sculpture. Massive emperor and horse both wore gas masks, like every other statue in the place, and it had always put Karou in mind of the first horseman of the Apocalypse, Pestilence, sowing plaque with one outstretched arm.
Laini TaylorShe knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.
Laini TaylorYou were true to her, even if she was not to you. Never repent of your own goodness, child. To stay true in the face of evil is a feat of great strength.”
“Strength,” she said with a little laugh. “I gave her strength, and look what she did with it.
It was brave," countered Issa. "It was rare. It was love, and it was beautiful.
Laini TaylorAs far back as she could remember, a phantom life had mocked her with its impenetrable “something else,” but now it was the opposite. Here, in the circle of Akiva's presence, even as they spoke of war and siege and enduring enmity, she felt herself being drawn into the warm absoluteness and rightness of him, like he was both place and person and, contrary to all reason, exactly where she was supposed to be.
Laini TaylorLove is a luxury."
"No. Love is an element."
An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on.
Mots clés love romance akiva karou
I'm afraid they're in love," he said, concerned. "They don't want to leave you." He lifted one hand from her waist to gently brush a pair from her neck, where their wings fanned against her jaw. Melancholy, he said, "I know just how they feel.
Laini TaylorHe dropped the pretense, and dropped his head, so his brow came to rest against the sun-warmed top of hers. His arms went around her and drew her in, and Karou and Akiva were like two matches struck against each other to flare starlight. With a sigh, she softened, and it was pure homecoming to melt against him and rest.
Laini TaylorAnd they were quiet but their blood and nerves and butterflies were not—they were rampantly alive, rushing and thrumming in a wild and perfect melody, matched note for note.
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