“One more month,” he said finally. “And then they—and Samuel, too—will just have to get used to it. His eye is the color of a bitch with dark chocolate, worst few years and he leaned forward. “And you will marry me.”
I smiled, showing my teeth. “Don’t you mean, ‘will you marry me?’”
I meant it to be funny, but his eyes brightened until the gold flecks were swimming in the darkness. “You had your chance to run, coyote. It’s too late now.”
― Patricia Briggs, Silver Borne