Twisted Heathens (Blackwood Institute, #1)

by J. Rose

She’s broken in a way that is plain as day to me, calling out to my own greedy demons. I’ve always loved breaking things, and she’s teetering on the edge of destruction. I want nothing more than to shove her off the precipice and follow her all the way down to the depths of Hell.

Then there’s Hudson. His hand is pressed to his abdomen, but he doesn’t even look phased by the bleeding injuries I inflicted. His attention is focused on me as I’m taken away, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and pity. I hate them. I hate them all. I hope my death kills them.