House of Guardians

"She thinks we’re a bunch of overconfident aristocrats descended from an ancient royal family led by a group of powerful men." Sampson

"The threat in those words doesn’t escape me. I had kind of expected that he wouldn’t pull me against him and kiss me senseless, but I hadn’t expected having to leave this soon either. Hesitantly, I take one step closer and place the cake box on the porch before I turn around and walk away. This is starting to get old." Laurel

"I never seem to be able to call my mother by anything other than her first name. It probably has something to do with my Spartan upbringing. I don’t remember her ever comforting me when she left me behind crying on Olympus. And yet I respect her, because I know very well that raising me has been no easy task." Sampson

"You won’t hurt me, Sam. You hurt people who hurt me." Laurel

"I toss aside the towel and saunter into the bedroom. Despite the stretching and the hard water pressure of the shower, my body is still tense, and my muscles feel cramped. I could use a massage, but there is no time left to work out the kinks. I squat and search for a pair of boxers in my bag. Then I unzip one of the garment bags hanging on the closet door, take out a dark, custom-made suit, and put on a white dress shirt. I button up and loop a tie around my neck. As I push a cufflink through the hole of the sleeve, Laurel gets into my head. Laurel, who had driven me to the brink of madness by taking the cufflinks off. I can still smell the tempting scent of her skin, still feel her fingertips carefully exploring my abdomen. I feel myself getting hard when I think of the sensuous way she touched me. I can almost taste her. I almost did taste her." Sampson 

"Still wearing my clothes, I crawl under the sheets. The knowledge I possess right now is not only life-threatening – I finally understand Sam’s warnings – it’s also heartbreaking. I laugh through my tears. Am I really trying to convince myself that I have stumbled on some sort of cosmic mystery? And yet, when I think about everything I have heard, read, or seen with my own eyes, then I really can’t deny the facts – Sam is a demigod. I shiver under my sheets. I am dealing with a real demigod. His name is Sam Laurens, he is eighteen years old, irresistible, and I’m hopelessly in love with him. And after all stories, questions and drawn conclusions, I am left with exactly one question: what does he want from me?" Laurel

"This is me, Laurel. Complicated. No relationships, no expectations, no promises." Sampson 

"Is this really a demigod? I don’t exactly know what my expectations were – it’s not like I have anything to compare it to. But I certainly did not expect a demigod to be walking around in ripped jeans with a beat up face and complaining about a headache. I didn’t expect someone with such sad, tired eyes. But I also know that under normal circumstances, that same face is flawless." Laurel

"Do you think you can outsmart me, Laurel?" Sampson

"Sam manages to locate me and as if he were moving in slow motion, he turns around and faces me. The music stops. The bustle falls silent. What remains is a cold, chilly look. His pupils run over me, and I realize now more than ever that I defied a direct order from a warrior whose arrows never miss, and by doing so, I didn’t just endanger my own life, but also those of my friends. At this moment I fear his wrath more than all the other unrivalled forces in the room." Laurel