"Power doesn't care who owned it first. Only who owns it now."
***
"How long?" she asked. Her voice came out hushed. Intense. Almost desperate. The question scraped raw by need.
"Until we possess the strength to seize what we desire instead of lurking in shadows. Until the Twilight Society becomes more than just a fragile dream." I released her and eased back against the pillows. Ignored the fresh wave of pain that movement brought. "Until I've become worthy of what you're offering me."
She rose abruptly. Smoothed her skirt with hands that weren't quite steady. The tremor in her fingers was visible even in the dim light of the infirmary.
"I should allow you to rest. The medic was quite insistent about it."
"Lyra."
She halted at the foot of my bed. Her gaze not quite meeting mine. As if afraid of what I might see there.
"Patience may be virtuous," I said quietly, "but it makes our eventual victory infinitely sweeter. Remember that."
