Painted Devils (Little Thieves, #2)

by Margaret Owen

Let me state one thing up front: I wasn’t trying to start a cult.

I want him to leave out details for me, is the thing. Smudge out my failures until there’s just the girl I want him to see.

But one of the many reasons I’ve let him in is because we both know he won’t.

And as with so many ugly parts of me, I am terrified that once he sees it, he will know he deserves better.

But I am a stranger to being … sought.

Some part of me has always held back, clinging to the fear that I cannot be both known and wanted, that I will always have to surrender to one.

“We never stopped wanting you, you absolute donkey of a miracle,” Helga blubbers. “Never.”

I am a thief, a liar, a daughter, a sister, trouble, wanted. And my name is Vanja Ros.

Maybe it was the final crumb of hope I had that she’d regret it, every way she hurt me. Maybe it’s knowing that will always be out of reach. Maybe it’s knowing I have to be the one to let go.

His heart is in my hands, by his own design. And what a fearful, resplendent thing it is. What a horror, what a delight.