And my dreams are actually memories from lifetimes before.
Which doesn’t make sense because witches aren’t immortal. I’m starting to wonder if I’m something else entirely. I remember more every day, but the answers I need are always just out of reach.
While I’m trying to figure this all out, a community of witches has opened their arms to me. I’m dying for a family that accepts me, but how much can I trust them?
And those three demons? They’re an infuriating (but sexy as hell) pain in my ass. They could also be the only ones with answers to my mother’s death.
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