Fitz pulled her forward, and the warm tingling in her hand shot through her body--like a million feathers swelling underneath her skin, tickling her from the inside out.
This is who I am. A fighter. A guardian. Stronger than the Stormers. Stronger than Vane. Beyond all emotion. I don't give in to fear or pity or love. I'm the one in control.
I turn away, tempted to punch the glass. I'm in the gratest danger of my life, and I'm playing with my hair and wondering if the boy I can't have-and refuse to let myself want-thinks I'm pretty.
Who is this woman, and what has she done with my ever worryng mother?
Sheesh, one hot girl walks into the house and all trust vanishes. -Vane Weston
