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280 pages, Paperback
Published November 2, 2023
He was a lad in the process of re-making himself into something else, something unnatural.
The moors would be flowering at this time of year, but in my dream the heather is black, and the birds are all dead. There is a hand smashing through a lattice, a hand that I hold and will not release, despite the horror of its owner, ordering me to release her.
I was a fool to carry this image of us as fetterless yet joined, slaves to each other yet ungoverned by God, man, even nature. I dared the devil himself to separate us. I bore this idea, nurtured it, and welcomed it. She said our souls were twined like two oaks, that we could never be uprooted. But she was a liar. I knew my own destiny—it was ingrained in the Cragg itself, and it was as implacable as the rocks beneath it. I was fated to love my deceiver, my destroyer. How could I not?