plan

❛in which they grow to love and learn❜
Briar Desilva hated. She hated the Cursebreaker and the High Lord of Spring. She hated her mind and she hated her body. She hated the memories that danced beyond her reach and the past that was and always has been a mystery. Most of all, she hated herself.
Azriel hated, too. He hated all he could not have and all that he had. He hated his hands and he hated his shadows. He hated fire. He hated his past and his present and his future and the love that surrounded him but always evaded ever gracing his heart. Most of all, he hated himself.
Vengeance? It was all they really knew. Perhaps they could learn more.