"He will give you death, and you will love him for it," is what Cassie said to me last night on the drive home.

And I knew, with my head out the window, that she was right. 

 The wind entangled my hair the way Jace entangled my heart. 

 Eyes closed, cheeks numbing, I knew every spoiled gift he gave me would resemble jewels in my eyes. 

 I knew the flowers he would shower me with, dead and crumbling, would smell like life to me. 

 I would see his hatred as love, his negligence as diligenc, his neglect as attention. 

 Rose-colored glasses would hide these lifeless eyes. 

 I would turn the little he gave me into the world, and I was prepared for how it would change me. 

 Or so I thought.