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Protector Quotes

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Protector Quotes

“Growing up, I always had a soldier mentality. As a kid I wanted to be a soldier, a fighter pilot, a covert agent, professions that require a great deal of bravery and risk and putting oneself in grave danger in order to complete the mission. Even though I did not become all those things, and unless my predisposition, in its youngest years, already had me leaning towards them, the interest that was there still shaped my philosophies. To this day I honor risk and sacrifice for the good of others - my views on life and love are heavily influenced by this.”

“You and a select few of your ancestors, including your mother, are special protectors of your realm, here on earth. You are here to keep balance between what is right and wrong, good and evil. You and you alone are the Keeper of a deadly sword, known as the Ferryman. You must learn to wield the Ferryman and protect your world from destruction.”

“When a protector leaves you, it looks like the end of the world. But you gradually learn to walk by your own feet”

“And as Sean climbs into bed and closes his eyes, Mother comes, riding astride a lion the size of a house, blowing a clarion from a horn made out of a hollowed-out elephant's tusk. Her eyes have a faint crimson glow from the lasers that are mounted behind her irises, ready to fire at will. 'I touched a prince's chest today and made his heart stop,' she says. 'I'll do it again if I have to: they'll see what happens if anyone gets in my way. Good night, my son. Remember that I will always keep you safe; that I am always everywhere and always here.' 'Good night, Mom,' Sean says, and falls asleep. And Mother recedes, wise and beautiful and strong, a genius and a hero, a punisher of thieves and a slayer of wicked men, to watch over her son in all her different versions.”

“And sometimes, if she was brave enough, she would turn to the memories of little James. Not the end, but the days before. When she would slide her pinky into his open palm and his tiny fingers would close tight around it. He would peer around the room with his brand-new eyes, and Helen thought that perhaps after the womb, this dark, tight space probably seemed about right. He was wonderfully oblivious to the danger they were in. She became his protector, and for those days, that was all she was. It changed everything. It changed her. And somehow, he in turn protected Helen. He was the sun that couldn’t reach them—he broke away the darkness. As she thought of him, of those red curls and blue eyes, Helen found herself feeling the warmth from him, even though he was gone.”

“Universe is frightening; we need a protector and a meticulous mind is the best protector; it is like a watchful dog which guards us all the time!”

“A warm feeling fell over the boy. A mix of security and comfort, as if a blanket were wrapping its soft layers around his heart and nuzzling him snuggly. Gavin loved his mother, and he would be forever grateful to his father for protecting her. The whole mystery behind it made him itch with curiosity, however.”

“Feathers layered like dragons’ scales, their symmetry perfectly fledged, framing slender shoulders; sublime. A tumble of red tresses shimmer. Soft wings arch toward the sky. Once a cherub, she has grown. A young woman now, strong and lithe. Powerful with stormy eyes alight, windswept in her glory. An angel in body and spirit. - Winged Justice”

“But before the sword could fall, there was a flash of black, a shadow rising from a hollow in the ground. Orga twined around Taran's feet, and he staggered, falling onto one knee. His sword sliced harmlessly through the air by Wendell's shoulder. "What's this?" Taran demanded. Then, to my astonishment, he added in a tone of affection, "Betrayal? I kept this one fed during your absence, Prince. I have always liked cats. It seems she has changed her mind about me, though." "Orga cares even less for my enemies than I do," Wendell said unevenly. "After this, you can expect her to spend the rest of her days orchestrating your demise.”

“And why the name Bruno?" "My papa picked it. He said it meant 'brown,' like his coat. But also 'protector.' We didn't mean to keep him at first. But he came to us looking so starved and sad that we took him in, and once he'd been fed, Papa and I couldn't part with him." Cinderella smiled at Bruno. "He's been my sweetest companion ever since. And my most loyal protector." "I like dogs more than people," said the duchess. "For that very reason- they don't let you down as much.”

“His eyes narrowed, and I thought this was the moment he would lose his control, begin to shout at me. Maybe even attack me, as he had done before. He stiffened and took a step forward. Willow growled louder, a wonderfully terrifying sound. She, too, took a step forward, and that stopped Will where he was, as surely as if he had run into a wall. I said with satisfaction, "You're afraid of her." "When did you get a dog? She looks mean." My anger had cooled enough for me to think clear, hard thoughts. To be as cagey as Will himself. I felt as if I had lived multiple lifetimes since I had last seen Will, and I was stronger, tougher, wiser for my experiences. I said in as chilly a tone as I could produce, "This is Willow. She is mean. You want to be careful around her. She'll bite you if you do something she doesn't like, and she never likes anything I don't like." Willow had never bitten a person in her life, but I had told the truth. She wouldn't let Will or anyone else hurt me if she could possibly help it.”

“You will come back to the castle with me." "I don't belong there. I don't belong anyplace." "You belong with me," he replied without the slightest hesitation. Her chin trembled as she held his gaze. "I-I'm not your responsibility." "Yes, you are. You are mine. They gave you to me, remember? And I want to keep you. Come here," he ordered softly. She lifted her arms and stepped into his embrace without another word. He hugged her close, his heart pounding. "Listen to me. I don't want you to worry for one instant what will become of you, all right? I'll look after you. Whatever you need. You have my word, Kate. You're not alone, do you understand?" he whispered as he held her. After a moment, he felt her nod against his chest. "There's my brave girl," he murmured, brushing a kiss to her forehead. It was at that moment that it dawned on him what he was going to do when they returned to the castle. The thought shocked him as it struck, igniting his heart, even as it filled him with an odd relief. Of course. She was already under his protection. By now, anyone outside the castle no doubt assumed she was already his mistress. They already wanted each other so badly. He saw no reason now not to offer her his carte blanche. Yes. She must become more securely his. It was not his way to keep any one particular mistress to service his needs. But if Kate were his, then he would not have to worry about her, even beyond all this business with O'Banyon. He would know exactly where she was, that she was fed, clothed, protected, and provided for. Admittedly, it might come across as utterly ruthless of him to make such an offer at a time like this---as though he were coldly taking advantage of her at the moment of her greatest vulnerability. But he was not motivated by lust. At least not entirely. Obviously, he could not marry her---not with his curse, and her Promethean blood. But if Kate was his mistress, then he could watch over her, and if anyone ever tried to hurt her again, they would have to deal with him first. Besides, he knew by now how her mind worked. If he were simply to make her a promise of financial help, she wouldn't take it. She was too proud. Hell, with her independent spirit, she would abhor any offer that she interpreted as charity. So, let her work for it. God, he had dreamed of making love to her since that first night when Caleb Doyle had brought her to the castle for that very purpose. Even now, she felt like heaven in his arms. If she was willing, he knew one sure way to comfort her when they got her back to the castle. He could make all her tears and sorrow melt away... Cradling her in his embrace, Rohan pressed another possessive kiss to her brow.”

“I smelled blood. You were hurt." And then, with a hesitation in his voice I had never heard from him before: "I... don't like the idea of you being hurt." My heart hammered in my rib cage at the reluctant admission. He'd been about to rip that kid's head off. All because he thought I might have been injured. How was I supposed to process this? It had been a wild, indefensible reaction to a negligible injury. So why did I find his going feral like that one of the hottest things I'd ever experienced? If he'd reacted like this when I'd barely hurt myself, what might he do if I were really threatened?”