Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him — Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
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Such kindness wasn't a gift but a goad, scraping against one's skin like a yoke of thorns. She would have preferred him stiff, defensive, even offensive.

— Lauren Willig, The Betrayal of the Blood Lily
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