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“I do not expect Henrique Mauricio to conform to my standards of behavior," Alaric said. "I expect him not to do things that make me want to pound his face into a bloody pulp. Sadly, every time I meet him he fails to live up to this expectation.”
― Meg Cabot, Overbite

“This resentment you feel toward Father Henrique is another example," Holtzman said. "What did the man ever do to you? Nothing. So he botched that exorcism. It was his first one. He was young. Do you know what I did at my first exorcism?"
"Ran," Alaric said at the same time as his boss.
"Thats exactly right," Holtzman went on. "Its extremely frightening to look into the face of evil for the first time."
"Not," Alaric said, "as frightening as looking into the face of a man who has willing taken a vow of chastity.”
― Meg Cabot, Overbite

“Be kind to me, Alaric had said. He’d been at her mercy, broken and bruised and the valerian ensuring that he had no defenses left, and that was what he’d asked of her. Be kind to me.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Talasyn flashed Alaric a small, hopeful smile. “Pretty, isn’t it?â€�
He was looking at her when he said, “Yes.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Are you missing your pretty bride?â€� he suggested. “Counting the minutes until you see her again? Not that I blame you. A most fascinating girl, Talasyn. Or should I say, Alunsina Ivralis. I can see why you—â€� Alaric went in for the kill.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Then I must have been mistaken,â€� said Elagbi, “and it is some other city with a center lying in ruins.â€� At this display of cutting sarcasm, Alaric shot Talasyn a pointed look. “Now I know where you get it from.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Alaric felt Talasyn take a shaky gasp of breath against him, and he hunched further down, further into her, stirred by an instinctive protectiveness that was all he had to give for now. He was rattled by how close she’d come to getting killed—by her former countrymen, no less. He could barely comprehend that she had saved his life, that she had killed a former comrade in order to do so.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Alaric.â€� Talasyn caught his arm. He looked back at her blankly. “The rebel with the crossbow—why didn’t you kill him?â€� His gray eyes lingered on her hand on his sleeve, then drifted to her face. “Because you told me not to.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Some tiny part of him had left his body and was wrapped in sunlight, sheltered somewhere spun from memory, a place where Talasyn carded her fingers through his hair as he lay atop her, the gentlest touch he’d ever known.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“What happened?â€� she demanded, vehemence leaching into her tone. These weren’t battle wounds. “Who did this to you?â€�
Alaric turned his head to the side, avoiding her gaze, his lips clamped shut.
“Tell me.� Talasyn put her hand against his cheek, urging his eyes back to hers. “Or I’ll go to your guards and ask them instead.�
"Don't."
“It was my father,� he said hoarsely. Every word sounded ripped from his throat. “In punishment for my shortcomings—� He shuddered with a fresh spasm of pain, eyelids twitching as he closed them, long lashes fluttering against the tops of wan cheeks. “A lesson.�
Talasyn had known, of course, that Gaheris was cruel, but it had never before occurred to her that this cruelty would extend to his son. This is how he keeps him chained. It had been ingrained in him to not fight back.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Alaric’s large fingers clamped around her wrist, dragging her back down. “No one else can see.â€� She hesitated, unconvinced and worried sick. He added, his tone uneven and his grip on her tightening, “Don’t, Talasyn.â€�
His thumb brushed across the inside of her wrist in fretful strokes, and her free hand moved as though of its own accord, wrapping around his, squeezing in reassurance as she asked, "Do you have any bandages, then? I can-"
"Leave it," Alaric told her through clenched teeth. "I'll take care of myself."
“You’re in no condition—�
“I can manage—�
"No, you can’t!�
He gave a start at her raised tone, his powerful body twitching as though it longed to curl in on itself in a protective ball. Thoroughly chastened, she cradled his cheek, the walls that she had so carefully built around herself in his presence crashing down. “Alaric,â€� she pleaded, “let me help you.â€� “You shouldn’t even be here.â€� Despite his rough, strained words, he leaned into her touch with a quiet desperation that made up her mind for her. “I am, anyway,â€� she retorted. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Alaric grabbed her elbow, despair surging from him in waves, and pulled her to him. She let out an indignant squeak as she found herself sprawled on top of his bare chest, her nose inches from his. She held still, careful not to disturb the bandages, and his hand darted from her elbow to her lower back, exposed by the cut of her blue dress, his warm fingers trailing static charges along the base of her spine. She hadn’t realized that she was so sensitive there.
“Don’t go,� he murmured hoarsely, fitfully, a man caught in a fever-dream. “I won’t bring up the rebels again. I won’t breathe another word. Just—don’t leave me, Tala.� The name he had first called her on their wedding night sent a mess of starlit recollections swirling through her at the same time that it caught in his throat, along with what he said next. “Please.�
Talasyn stared into the hollow desolation in Alaric’s gray eyes, the utter defeat. She knew this loneliness. She understood it in the marrow of her bones. “I was going to clean up, that’s all,� she whispered. “I’m not leaving. It’s just—the bucket and—�
“Forget the bucket,� he told her, a hint of his usual imperiousness breaking through the valerian fog. “Stay here.�
“All right.� Not her wittiest moment, but it was difficult to think when she was pressed up against his solid body, his hand on the small of her back. “I’ll stay.�
He looked like he didn’t believe her, and it pierced her heart.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Talasyn suddenly wanted nothing more than to assure Alaric of her presence. She sank fully against his form, holding him down with her weight, burying her face in the side of his neck in a chaste imitation of what he had done to her once, in another bed.
“I’m here,� she vowed into his smooth, overheated skin. “I’m not going anywhere.�
A sound between a groan and a hitch of breath caught in his throat. The hand on the small of her back rubbed compulsively, tracing the notches of her spine, and his arm tightened around her. His other hand tangled in her hair.
“I couldn’t kill that rebel.â€� It was a choked, bewildered rumble in her ear. “One word from you and I let my guard down. I couldn’t kill you, either, all those times before â€� What am I, if I’m not a weapon? What have you done to me?”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“I couldn’t kill that rebel.â€� It was a choked, bewildered rumble in her ear. “One word from you and I let my guard down. I couldn’t kill you, either, all those times before â€� What am I, if I’m not a weapon? What have you done to me?”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“You’re not just a weapon,â€� she mumbled into his neck. “You have a sweet tooth and sometimes you make me laugh. I tell you things that I’ve never told anyone else.â€� The very air seemed to spin golden with each surge of memory, aether humming between their forms. “You helped me with my magic. You tackled me out of the way of that void bolt. Today you made sure I could run and fight. All of these things—they’re not what a weapon is, or does. You’re so much more than a weapon. You could be more.â€�
She meant every word.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Alaric’s fingers tightened in her hair, a gentle tugging that lifted her head from the crook of his neck. She blinked down at his pale, anguished features, her pulse quickening as it was caught in the stormy undertow lurking in the haze-ridden depths of his dark eyes. “Be kind to me, wife,â€� he said.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Alaric’s lips gave a reluctant twitch. “What you did,â€� he repeated, overcome by the sense of vague affection that he only ever felt around her, “that was more than anyone else ever …â€�
She bit her lip, her features crumpling with a pained sorrow that went far too deep for what she knew of his situation. Then she placed her hand over his, where it lay on the strips of woven rattan between them. He was struck dumb by the gentleness of the gesture, by how each touch of her slim fingers burned right through the leather of his gauntlets.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“He chucked her under the chin. The way he had at the Belian shrine.
Everything about this moment carried echoes of before, painted in a new light.
“I thought Queen Urduja might have told you what to write,� he admitted. “I assumed you told her about—about what my father—�
“I didn’t,� she said quickly.
Talasyn tried to step back. Tried to step away from Alaric and this jumble of emotions, this labyrinth. But she found herself frozen in place as relief softened his features, taking away the years. The corner of his mouth, mere inches from hers, lifted in what was almost a smile.
“Write to me again, Tala.� There was a teasing lilt to his tone. “I’ll write back. I promise. We’ll endure your awkwardness together.�
Her spark of annoyance was eclipsed by how close he was, close enough to kiss. And maybe she should kiss him, to erase some of that smugness â€�”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“She was pouting, and it was oddly adorable, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising

“Living with Talasyn, having her constantly in his orbit—how was he to get through this visit unscathed? They would either kill each other or end up kissing again, and it would prove disastrous either way.
The solution is simple, a snide inner voice told him. Simply do not kiss her. He could do that, surely. He hadn’t kissed her at all since their wedding night, and he hadn’t kissed her during that charged moment earlier, so he was clearly capable of some modicum of self-control.
What if she marched out of there in nearly sheer robes like those she'd worn that night?
He’d jump off the balcony. He truly would.”
― Thea Guanzon, A Monsoon Rising