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

by Holly Black

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.

Jude’s words hit like a dagger wrapped in silk, soft in delivery but sharp in meaning. It’s the perfect encapsulation of what it feels like to fall for someone who is both your weakness and your weapon. There’s power in her confession.

It occurs to me that maybe desire isn’t something overindulging helps. Maybe it is not unlike mithridatism; maybe I took a killing dose when I should have been poisoning myself slowly, one kiss at a time.