The Hawthorne Legacy

Heads, I kiss you. Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something.

Est unus ex nobis. Nos defendat eius."She is one of us. We protect her.

Picture yourself standing on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The wind is whipping your hair. The sun is setting. You long, body and soul, for one thing. One person. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn. Who's there?I remembered a voice. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.

I came to see you,” Jameson told me. “Every day. The least you could have done was wake up while I was here, tragically backlit, unspeakably handsome, and waiting.

The trick to being abandoned was to never let yourself long for anyone who left.

You think I didn’t fight the same fight? I halfway convinced myself that as long as Avery was just a riddle or a puzzle, as long as I was just playing, I’d be fine. Well, joke’s on me, because somewhere along the way, I stopped playing.

Sometimes all a girl really needed was a very bad idea.

Grayson Hawthorne was arrogant enough to consider himself bulletproof—and honorable enough to see a promise through to its end.

Grayson was Not Pleased - and no one did Not Pleased like Grayson Hawthorne.

I'm not the glass ballerina," I said firmly. "I'm not going to shatter.

This was the Grayson I’d met weeks ago: dripping power and well aware that he could come out on top in any battle. He didn’t make threats, because he didn’t have to.

Is it smash the patriarchy? I hope it’s smash the patriarchy.

Nash Hawthorne would probably tip his cowboy hat to Death herself.

Jameson had a habit of tossing out words that should matter like they didn't at all.

I am an expert at not wanting to want things.” I held my sword up for a moment longer, then lowered it, the way he’d lowered his. “But I’m starting to realize that the person I need to be, the person I’m becoming—she’s not that girl anymore.

Your silence on the issue of people trying to kill you is deeply disturbing.

I stepped into the secret passageway to find Jameson waiting for me. “Fancy meeting you here, Heiress.” “You,” I told him, “are the most annoying person on the face of the planet.

sometimes it feels good to smack the hell out of something.

Why kill two birds with one stone, he always said, when you could kill twelve?

You don't have to kiss me now. You don't have to love me now, Heiress. But when you're ready...When you're ready, if you're ever ready, if it's going to be me - just flip that disk. Heads, I kiss you. Tails, you kiss me. And either way, it means something.

Jameson was close to me now. Too close. Every one of the Hawthorne boys was magnetic. Larger than life. They had an effect on people—and Jameson was very good at using that to get what he wanted. He wants something from me now.

In the past six weeks, I’d been shot at, blown up, kidnapped, and paraded around as the living, breathing embodiment of Cinderella stories. To the world, I was a scandal, a mystery, a curiosity, a fantasy.

So, to summarize,” Max said, “the dead uncle? Not dead, might be your father. Hot boys are also tragic, everyone wants a piece of your fine ash, and the woman who tried to have you killed is foxing your father?

Jameson smiled. It was his slow, dangerous, heady smile, designed to elicit a reaction. I didn’t give him one.

Secrets, lies, All I despise. The tree is poison, Don’t you see? It poisoned S and Z and me. The evidence I stole Is in the darkest hole. Light shall reveal all I writ upon the…

She’s delightfully Machiavellian, and she hates to lose.” Xander was absolutely unapologetic. “I like what that does to my odds.

Some people are smart. Some people are good." He opened his eyes and put a hand on each of my shoulders. "And some people are both.

My psychic senses,” Max announced, “are now attuned to that picture, and I’m getting some pretty clear messages about communing and abs.

You’re a billionaire now. You have an entire team of people to protect you. The world is your motherfaxing oyster. It’s okay to want things.” Max turned off the shower. “It’s okay to go after what you want.

Allow me to get this straight,” Zara said, staring past Jameson and straight to me. “You, to whom my father left virtually everything, want the one and only thing he left to me?