The Six Deaths of the Saint (Into Shadow, #3)

by Alix E. Harrow

And you found you did not mind being a devil, so long as you were his.

You saw yourself as an unholy triptych, three into one, one into three: she the girl, you the Devil, and I the Saint. And you understood, finally, that there had never truly been a she or a you but only a terrible, lonely I.

But he is my King, and I am his Devil. I have given him my blood, my youth, my love, my good right hand; who am I now to begrudge him my death?

You could not decide if they were prophecies or memories, or whether there was any difference between the two.

“I would rather love a coward than mourn a legend.”

That I have lived and killed and lived again in the name of a man who does not deserve it because I wanted so badly to be beloved.

just k*ll me, that would hurt less than this sjdhfsdj

I know him, and in knowing him I love him, and in loving him I cannot do as he wishes.