Madeline Paige Fornes

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She ought to be nothing. She ought to be insignificant. She ought not to matter. He had to make her not matter. But every night, Jude haunted him. The coils of her hair. The calluses on her fingers. An absent bite of her lip. It was too much, the way he thought about her. He knew it was too much, but he couldn’t stop. It disgusted him that he couldn’t stop.
How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories (The Folk of the Air, #3.5)
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