Faeries make up for their inability to lie with a panoply of deceptions and cruelties.
“Tell me again what you said at the revel,” he says, climbing over me, his body against mine.
“What?” I can barely think.
“That you hate me,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Tell me that you hate me.”
“I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
He kisses me harder.
“I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can’t think of anything else.”
― The Wicked King
“What?” I can barely think.
“That you hate me,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Tell me that you hate me.”
“I hate you,” I say, the words coming out like a caress. I say it again, over and over. A litany. An enchantment. A ward against what I really feel. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
He kisses me harder.
“I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes I can’t think of anything else.”
― The Wicked King
“If you hurt me, I wouldn't cry. I would hurt you back.”
― The Cruel Prince
― The Cruel Prince
“If I cannot be better than them, I will become so much worse.”
― The Cruel Prince
― The Cruel Prince
“That’s what comes of hungering for something; you forget to check if it’s rotten before you gobble it down”
― The Cruel Prince
― The Cruel Prince
“Kill him before he makes you love him.”
― The Wicked King
― The Wicked King
Liese’s 2025 Year in Books
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