Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)

by Rebecca Ross

But all good things eventually came to an end. And all songs had a final verse.

She had felt hollow since returning to Oath. She slept but she didn’t dream. She swallowed but she couldn’t taste.

How utterly sobering it was, then, to realize how seldom daydreams like that aligned with reality.

Every morning, I wake from my gray, dreamless sleep and I think of you. I wonder where you are. If you are hurt or hungry or afraid.

“Are you saying that Kitt won’t remember me?” “Yes.”

There was a right and wrong answer, and Roman hesitated, torn between the typewriter that had reminded him of his name and the one that reminded him that he was alive.

My name is Roman Carver Kitt, and this is a dead man’s story.

The problem is … I want to hear from you at all hours. I want to read your words. I am greedy for them. I am hungry for them.

I will die far from home, with words I wanted to say but never did.

“You and I were never enemies, Kitt. Not exactly.” “Then were we something more?”

Should I be surprised that I was falling in love with you a second time? Should I be surprised that your words found me here, even in the darkness?

Was it sweeter to kill someone after you had given them hope?

Their souls weren’t mirrors but complements, constellations that burned side by side.

He could wake and not know his name, forgetting every word he had ever written. But he would never forget the scent of Iris’s skin, the sound of her voice.

There is no magic above or below that will ever steal this from me again.

“My wife!” Roman hissed. “My wife is in that crowd!”

Act like you hate him again. Despise him. Like he isn’t the other half of you.

If he touches me, I will sunder in two, she thought, fire in her blood. If he touches me, I will come undone.

“Write me a story where there is no ending, Kitt. Write to me and fill my empty spaces.”

“I betrayed you,” Roman began, “because I love her.”

“You never saved me, like you claim. In the field of Avalon Bluff. You didn’t save me, but Iris did.”

Let our breaths twine and our blood become one, until our bones return to dust. A sob broke his breath. Even then, may I find your soul still sworn to mine.

Iris stared at them as if they were strangers, unable to fathom what she was seeing. Her brother, bruised almost beyond recognition.

He had shielded Sarah with his body, but it hadn’t been enough. The heap of rubble had killed them both, hands entwined. They would never breathe again. They would never laugh and argue and grow old together.

Come home soon, Little Flower. I can’t wait to see you again. Love, your brother, Forest

I look forward to the next chapter. The one you will write in your story, as well as the one we write together. Love, Iris