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“I want my name to echo inside your head like a blade across your skull, because that’s what you are to me. The knife that cuts deeper and deeper.”
Perhaps I am a sadist, after all. I would’ve destroyed every last one of them for her. My raven beauty. My Isa bella.
“Call me old-fashioned, but I just prefer flipping pages.” “Same.” It’s sad to me that so few are interested in physical books these days. My favorite thing in the world used to be the sound of the book’s spine cracking open on a new adventure inside.
It turns out, heaven is a nineteen-year-old girl who sleeps with a pocket knife under her pillow. And I’m the selfish bastard who intends to keep her all to myself.
“Love and danger make for one hell of a good life.
That’s because she spent her whole life waiting for the white knight to come and rescue her from the life she so desperately tried to escape. I went in search of the villain, instead, and found him alone and in pain, living in a castle of bones.
The Devil of Bonesalt, the Mad Son, with whom I’ve fallen irrevocably in love.
