Bound (Highgate Preparatory Academy, #2)

by Rosa Lee

I get lost in his taste; like winter nights, sin, and darkness. But not the kind of darkness that you’re afraid of, the kind that protects you and hides you from all harm.

“‘Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.’”