kylie doyle

Calliope
I never asked to be a savior. This island has become my prison and my penance. It has rotted my soul and hollowed me into something unrecognizable. Redemption slipped through my fingers long ago, and now all I dream of is escape. Death waits for me at every turn, whispering promises of peace. Then he arrives. My Nightmare is tall, dark, and vengeful-vowing to bury me. Perhaps I’ll let him. I suppose real freedom only comes when your last breath has been stolen.

Aztyn
Calliope Veritas took everything from me. My brother’s blood stains her hands, and I’ve sworn to balance the scales with her soul. I’ve hunted monsters, and delivered justice wrapped in agony to many but she is different. There is something in her silence that sings, something in her gaze that drags me under. My obsession grows like a thorned vine, strangling reason. I think I’ll keep her close-my Little Muse-until I carve the truth from her bones.