Kiva And Jaren Quotes

Something on the ground caught her attention, and she clapped gleefully. “Happy kitty!” Jaren tugged her back before she could try to pet it. “That’s a dead rat.” Kiva pouted as he pulled her away. “Sad kitty.

You’re both idiots,” he grumbled into their ears. “I don’t know why I love you. Frankly, I deserve better.” He then released them to place loud, smacking kisses on first Kiva’s and then Jaren’s cheeks, before saying, “No more lovers’ spats. My poor little heart can’t take it.

I’m s-sorry!” he cried, tilting his tearstained face back to look at her through watery blue eyes. “I’m s-s-so sorry! J-Jaren said I should f-forgive you, that you d-didn’t have a choice and you o-only lied to protect me, but I was j-just so mad! And you n-nearly drowned thinking I h-hate you! I d-don’t! I don’t hate you, K-Kiva! I couldn’t n-never

See you in a few days,” Eidran said, his only goodbye to the group — though he did meet Kiva’s eyes, then slide his gaze to Jaren, before grinning at them both. It was the first time Kiva had ever seen him smile, the expression enough to dazzle her until Jaren gave a pointed cough.

Why are you crying, Kiva?” "You have a tortured soul." "He hates that he fell in love with you." “Where’s Caldon?” “He’s d-dead.” "What?" Jaren said, his voice whip-sharp. "You would have what? Stopped her? You're a Corentine. The Jackal. The rebel general. Isn’t this what you wanted? Congratulations, you succeeded." "He's from a family of liars and murderers. Trust him all you want, but you'll only bring about your own ruin. Then you'll have no one to blame but yourself." "No one escapes Zalindov." A manic laugh slipped out. "Not even when they do." "You have been found guilty of crimes against humanity.

Jaren, it’s been far too long,” Queen Issa said, hurrying out from behind her desk and throwing her arms around him in a welcoming hug, prompting Kiva to fight an irrational surge of jealousy.

Kiva wasn’t sure if Torell was even breathing, but she did see Ashlyn and Jaren staring at her brother, unable to hide their surprise. Caldon just looked smug, as if silently saying I told you so to his family.

I’m s-sorry!” he cried, tilting his tearstained face back to look at her through watery blue eyes. “I’m s-s-so sorry! J-Jaren said I should f-forgive you, that you d-didn’t have a choice and you o-only lied to protect me, but I was j-just so mad! And you n-nearly drowned thinking I h-hate you! I d-don’t! I don’t hate you, K-Kiva! I couldn’t n-never hate you! I l-love you! Please b-believe me!

Who are you?” Kiva demanded. Naari’s gaze was steady on hers. “I’m Jaren’s Golden Shield.” Golden Shield—the highest position of honor for a guard. For a Royal Guard.

Jaren was allocated work in the tunnels. It was Tipp who told Kiva; Tipp who had left the infirmary in a hurry upon Kiva’s return that night, hastening back to their shared cell block to make sure Jaren snagged a pallet next to his; Tipp who had whispered Zalindov’s secrets to the newcomer, all the warnings and hints that Kiva had failed to offer.

Who are you?” Kiva demanded. Naari’s gaze was steady on hers. “I’m Jaren’s Golden Shield.

My middle name is Jaren—that’s what my friends and family call me.” Pointedly, he said, “That’s what you call me, too.” “Not Prince Jaren?” Kiva asked. “No, just Jaren.” “What about Your Highness?” He pulled a face. “Definitely not.” “Your Grace?” “I’m not a duke.” “Your Excellency?” “Nor a lord.” “Your Majesty?” “Please stop.

Mother is dead. I’m on my way to Vallenia. It’s time to reclaim our kingdom. And as Kiva combed her fingers through Tipp’s hair, the boy still fast asleep on her lap, she glanced up to meet Jaren’s blue-gold eyes once more, his gaze impossibly soft. She smiled shyly back, offering no indication as to who he was leading to his city . . . who he was welcoming into his home. Kiva Meridan. Born as Kiva Corentine. The Rebel Queen may have perished at Zalindov, but her daughter was alive and well, and free of Zalindov after ten long years. The Rebel Princess was finally ready to rise.

I’m the prison healer,” Kiva answered. “That’s not your name.” He waited a beat, then offered, “I’m Jaren.” “You’re not,” she returned, looking away from him. “You’re D24L103.

But he seems so..." Kiva searched for the right word, before setting on, "Carefree" Jaren said nothing for a long moment, watching his cousin spar with Naari. “Sometimes the people who act like they don’t care are really the ones who care the most. They feel so much that it overwhelms them, and to keep from falling apart, they hide behind easy smiles and quick laughter, acting like nothing matters. It’s a defense mechanism, a way to protect themselves from the world. A way to keep from getting hurt.