The Second Death of Locke (The Hand and the Heart, #1)

by V.L. Bovalino

In fact, she’d more than liked Leonie on one frantic fever-dream of a night three months ago when Kier was in the infirmary, recovering from a broken rib.

GAAAYYYYYYY

Kier had explained his version of attraction to her when they were teenagers: how it was less about the gender and more about the person themselves; that his taste did not lie one way or another but with whoever enchanted him at the time. Grey didn’t have a preference for one gender over any others, either—but she wished, above all, that there was something about her that ensnared him. It was a desire that was left unrequited.

“Need something?” Eron asked, catching her grimace. He unshouldered his own pack and dug around in it for his pouch of supplies. “Take what you need. Mine is finished.” Grey thanked him with all the gratitude she could manage when caught with her trousers down.

This is a seemless and classy way to include trans people and reminds me that it really could be this easy for writers to have trans characters

“You are a vision, even with blood clots in your hair. But I don’t know if all would share my depraved tastes.”

“Grey, if I don’t spend the rest of my life washing gore out of your hair, then it’s not a life worth living.”

“You are mine and I am yours, and let us never again be whole.”

But she was Locke, and this was bullshit.

My girl

Blood of my blood, soul of my soul, thine hand is over my heart. When you ache, then shall I ache; when you perish, then shall I perish. What is known to me is known to you. Let me not break this troth.

“And if you insist on it, you can go home and be mad in your mothers’ house. When this battle is over, you are free to leave, if you wish.”

Period

“Why must you always sacrifice yourself, and call that love?”

Hi pot my name is kettle

Grey nodded, taking this in. “Were you afraid? When it was over?” “Of course I was,” Alma said. “But being afraid is better than being hopeless.”