The Foxglove King (The Nightshade Crown #1)

by Hannah F. Whitten

No transformation cuts more deeply than that of a friend to an enemy.

“A foxglove for a foxglove.” Bastian handed it to her with a bow and a flourish. “Beautiful and poisonous. Much like yourself, if I may be so bold as to make an assessment after our brief acquaintance.”

“Are you so accustomed to being used that you don’t realize when it’s happening, as long as it’s done kindly?”

“I do not recommend awakening by paper cut,”

You can’t flee from what you are, daughter of the dark. Death is the one thing that will always find you, and you are its heir. The seed of the apocalypse, end-times walking. You are the wildfire necessary for the forest to grow, the destruction that brings rebirth.

They’ll force you to be stronger, and then break you down. Reduce you to nothing but a womb for magic they can’t make. But only if you let them. Even when you ascend, you must remember that you are wholly your own.

“I’d eat anything right about now,” Lore said around a full mouth. “See, had you not just gone through something rather traumatic, I’d be making an off-color joke about that. As it is, I will let it lie. Please admire my restraint.”

All she’d ever wanted was to find somewhere she fit that wasn’t in the dark. But shadows and death were the only things that held space for her.

“Divinity is never destroyed,” she murmured. “Only echoed.”

Sometimes, you can see love coming. And when it takes a different path, you should be thankful.