Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)

by Rebecca Ross

“But then I woke up this morning and heard that nightingale sing in the garden, and it reminded me of my aunt’s story of the captive birds,” Marisol continued. “It reminded me that I cannot hold those I love in a cage, even if it feels like protecting them.”

Once more, the kitchen fell silent. A breeze stirred the curtains from the open window, and it was a soft reminder of constancy. The sun would continue setting and rising, the moon would persist in waxing and waning, the seasons would bloom and molt, and the war would still rage until one god or both fell to their grave.

I find that I am leaning more on the side of impossibility these days. I am leaning toward the edge of magic.

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

I have sung many of you to eternal rest after death, and I have found that the music of a mortal life burns brighter than any magic my songs could stoke.”

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

Some scars might fade in time, but others never would.

In many ways, it felt like she had finally outgrown the skin that had been her childhood. With every object she left behind, it split a little more, until she suddenly felt like she could take a full breath.