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Quote by Ruby Dixon

“I do not hate you.” Hate is the furthest thing I feel for her. But I know that trying to hold Asha is like trying to hold a handful of snow—the tighter I grip, the more she will trickle between my fingers and disappear.”

Quote by Ruby Dixon

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Barbarian's Hope

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Ruby Dixon

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“Oh, come on. It’s just a braid. If you hate it, you can take it out. And I’ve done lots of guy hair before.” He grins. “Very well, but if it looks ridiculous, you must remember so we can tell my Claire all about it.” I chuckle at that unexpected response. “I’ll do you one better. If it looks completely silly, I’ll recreate it when we get home so Claire can have a good laugh.” His face lights up at the thought of making his mate smile”

“Bitch, please. You try and run in snowshoes.” She gives an adorably indignant snort. “Then we can talk about who’s sweating and who’s not.” “This bitch will be happy to take you for a bath, then.” A startled giggle bursts out of her, and my sac tightens in response. I am filled with longing for her. “Oh my god, that’s so cute. You called yourself bitch.” “Should I not? You called me bitch.” I move to the front of the cave to grab a bowlful of snow to toss onto the fire. “Bitch is insulting, but lovingly so.” Brooke chuckles. “Humans have strange language.” I ignore the way my heart hammers at her description. Lovingly so. “Drink your tea fast, then, bitch.” “Oh boy. No, you can’t use it like that.”

“You should have stayed with your sister.” “Why? She doesn’t need me.” I tilt my head, studying him. “You don’t need me, either, not really. I’m not going to lie—I’m probably going to be shitty company on this trip. I’m going to be slow as molasses, and I’m not very strong. But you do need a friend…and I can be that for you.” He covers the hands I have on his cheeks with his own, and then lifts my hands to kiss each palm. “Are we just friends, Mah-dee? You know you have my heart.”

“Are you really surprised by the endurance of religion? What ideology is likely to be more durable than one that conforms, at every turn, to our powers of wishful thinking? Hope is easy; knowledge is hard. Science is the one domain in which we human beings make a truly heroic effort to counter our innate biases and wishful thinking. Science is the one endeavor in which we have developed a refined methodology for separating what a person hopes is true from what he has good reason to believe. The methodology isn't perfect, and the history of science is riddled with abject failures of scientific objectivity. But that is just the point-these have been failures of science, discovered and corrected by-what, religion? No, by good science.”

“What did you see in me?” “You just…looked like you needed a friend. And I did, too.” She puts her hands over mine. “No, it’s more than that. I needed to connect to someone. I felt alone, and lonely, and I felt like…well, that you would understand. That you would know how it felt to be surrounded by people and still feel adrift.”

“My mate,” I tell her softly. “What would I do without you?” Her eyes go wide. “Your mate?” “You have been since the day you claimed me.” I stroke my thumb over her soft, strange, pink mouth. “There is no other for me. There never has been.” “Not even my sister?” Her voice catches. I snort. “Your sister is my greatest mistake. I do not think I have ever even liked her.”

“I drop to my knees and press my head to her teats, listening. Hoping. “Oh,” she breathes, just as her chest begins to resonate. “Oh. I think…I think the ground isn’t shaking. I think it’s me.” “And me,” I tell her, utter joy racing through me. I hold her tightly, burying my face against her as I listen to her khui begin its song. It is singing to me. And I am singing back.”