Promise me you’ll marry me. Not now. Someday. Because I need to know.”Claire felt a flutter inside, like a bird trying to fly, and a rush of heat that made her dizzy. And something else, something fragile as a soap bubble,and just as beautiful. Joy, in the middle of all this horror and heartbreak.“Yes,” she whispered back. “I promise.”And she kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, while the sun came up and bathed Morganville in one last, shining day.
Rachel Caine, Last Breath
