Bewitching Rhaego (Clecanian, #8)

by Victoria Aveline

coincidences were just the footprints of fate.

Even if she felt he was telling the truth, it was his truth, not hers.

there was something insidious about insecurity sown during youth. The roots were deep. They burrowed into young spongy bone and grew alongside their host, hardening and aging until there was no distinguishing between what was natural and what was planted.