The Wicked King (The Folk of the Air, #2)

by Holly Black

“I hate you,” I whisper before he can speak. He tilts my face to his. “Say it again,” he says as the imps comb my hair and place the ugly, stinking crown on my head. His voice is low. The words are for me alone.

🤭🤭🤭

Fishies. Fishies.

I don’t know why this made me laugh so hard

that I like him better than I’ve ever liked anyone and that of all the things he’s ever done to me, making me like him so much is by far the worst.

I’m sorry, you’re telling me this is a FADE TO BLACK SCENE????? I have been robbed