Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

Ravyn had been a liar always out of necessity, never a fondness for the craft. It was one of the many masks he wore. And he’d worn it so long that, even when he should take it off, he didn’t always know how.

The Shepherd King had described the Spirit of the Wood in The Old Book of Alders as neither kin, foe, nor friend. He might have saved ink and called her what she truly was. A proper asshole.

“For mercy’s sake.” The Nightmare spat phlegm onto roots. “Shut the fuck up.”

IM CACKLING HAHAHAH