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Feversong

Book by Karen Marie Moning · 25 quotes · Feversong, Mackayla Lane, Fever Series

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Feversong Quotes

“Home. I knew some truths about that word now. You weren’t always born into one. But if you were lucky, you found one somewhere along the way. It was a place where you fit and were accepted, where people helped you with your problems and you helped them with theirs. Where you made mistakes and so did they but the love never wavered. A place where erosions never turned into landslides because you dug one another out. And always would.”

“I’ve had a long life. You haven’t. You love your family. Go to another world. Find a…a husband—” He broke off and that rattle began deep in his chest. His next words came out thickly, around fangs. “Have children. Rebuild the human race. Live all those dreams you used to have.” “Used to,” I agreed, nipping his full lower lip. “Don’t anymore. Can’t even conceive of them. You’re my dream.”

“You’re being a bloody fool.” “As if you haven’t been a time or two. Jericho, I’m holding your hand right up till the last. We’ll sit up high on Dani’s water tower, watch the world blink out and blink out with it. I’ll be staring into your eyes at the end. And we’ll smile. And I’m okay with that.” I was more than okay with that. It felt right somehow. I’d found my soul mate. And whatever adventure was coming next, I was meeting it with him. Or drinking deeply of oblivion without him. I couldn’t leave him. It was no longer possible. I wasn’t sure it had ever been.”

“Barrons’s hold tightened further. “Give me one good reason not to kill him. Ms. Lane,” he growled roughly around thick, long black fangs. “Because I asked you not to, Barrons. That’s good enough. You killed the other princes, and I was grateful. I wasn’t ready then. I was still afraid of what I’d become. But this last prince is mine to kill or not to kill. And I say no. At the moment. And although Cruce is incapable of understanding that word, I know you know that a no from me means no. And you will honor it,” I said in a voice that brooked no resistance. It was one of the defining differences between the two proud, dark, violent males. And if he didn’t honor it, he wasn’t the man I believed he was.”

“This lion that I'd sauntered up to wearing my flashy peacock feathers hadn't snapped the head off my skinny, brilliantly colored neck, he'd only licked me and waited for me to grow claws. I had neither flashy feathers nor claws now. I'd become yet another thing. A steel fist inside a velvet glove. Strong enough that I was no longer afraid to be gentle. Powerful enough that I could be vulnerable. Scarred enough that I could understand and thread lightly around the deepest scars of others.”

“He kissed me like I was the empire he was sworn to protect and would die a thousand deaths to keep secure. He kissed me like I was a woman with a deep dark wildness that needed to be fed and he knew just how to do it. He kissed me like he was dying and this was the last kiss he would ever taste. Then his kiss changed and his tongue was velvet and silk as he kissed me like I was fine bone china that needed exacting care and gentleness. Then the storm built in both of us and I ground myself against him, and he was searching with his kiss and his hands sliding down to my ass for the part of me that was a savage animal and so was he and we were going to forget the world and “become two primal, uncomplicated beasts fucking as if the universe depended on our passion to fuel it. And I was pretty sure we could. I felt something building in me, a hunger that was exhilarated to be alive and knew it could come out and play as hard as it wanted, because I could never break this man. Not even with all my superpowers. I could dump every bit of myself on him and never have to worry about giving him a heart attack or breaking a bone or giving him a black eye by accident. He could handle anything. My high temper, my need for adventure and stimulation, my intellect, rages, and rants, my sheer physical strength, even the darkness of my shadow-self. He was a broad-shouldered beast. He was hard and capable and permanent and had an immortal heart. A frenzy of lust exploded inside me and I met the savagery of his kiss with all the savagery in my soul, and there is one fuck of a lot of it.”

“Then my hair was loose and his hands were buried in it, and he was kissing me so deeply his fangs grazed my teeth and I tasted blood. I was acutely aware of every inch of my body that was touching every inch of his: his forearm grazing the side of my neck, his hands cradling my skull, his mouth so soft yet ” “hard, his powerful chest against the only part of me that wasn’t muscle, one of his thighs slipping between my legs, making my knees tremble and nearly buckle. He kissed like he did everything, with exquisite skill, passion, and one hundred percent focus. Here was where Ryodan shed his aloof businessman attire, his cool facade, and came to life with the heat and intensity of a thousand suns. And I realized that was what had so entranced me on Level 4—I’d seen him drop all his guards and fuck like a man on fire, with nothing held back. Open, unguarded, just like he’d been when we’d talked. Ryodan, controlled, is formidably fascinating. Ryodan, open, is indescribably addictive.”

“It was so different than kissing Dancer. Dancer’s kiss was sweet and dreamy and exciting. Ryodan’s kiss had razor edges, sharp and dangerous as the man. Being in Dancer’s arms was like living on the edible planet. Being in Ryodan’s was like stepping into the eye of a cyclone. Dancer was easy laughter and a normal future (sans abrupt death). Ryodan was endless challenge and a future that was impossible to imagine. Dancer accepted me any way I wanted to be without question. Ryodan made me question myself and pushed me to be the most I could be.”