Flock (The Ravenhood, #1)

by Kate Stewart

only love I’ve ever known or craved is the kind that keeps me sick, sick with longing, sick with lust, sick with need, sick with grief. The distorted kind that leaves scars and jaded hearts.

These are the type of confessions women who command respect are never supposed to give voice to. Not ever.

it feels more like a prison to me, and today is the first day of my sentence.

“Those boys, pretty as they are, I think might have the devil inside them.”