Madelyn Winward

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The name that’d been drawn like a scar across my heart at my first baptism, when I’d devoted myself to their god. When I’d spoken the words that’d bound me to their merciless savior. But, just like the woods that ate voraciously, always hungry for more, my piety wasn’t enough to earn their good graces. They still cast me off as something aberrant.
Anathema (The Eating Woods, #1)
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