Bash and Wren are crouching side by side, the twin mirrors of my undoing. They’re fallen angels who’ve become demons, sent here to tempt me, and the truth is I’m more than tempted. I’m wholly wrapped around their fingers, their claws sunk deep inside of me, where I fear I will never be free again. “He hurt you,” Bash says gently, as if I’m some scared animal ready to bolt. “That’s not something we forgive here.”
