Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)

by Rebecca Ross

She was very good at burying things like that, her anguish and her sorrow and sometimes even the reality of what she faced. But she didn’t quite know how to let them go without losing vital pieces of herself.

My Dear Iris, Agreed. Let us dare to change the tides. Write to me and fill my empty spaces. Love, Kitt

I would love to see your words catch fire with mine.

And you don’t know this about me yet, but I steal blankets.” Roman smiled, following her to the bedside. “I do, in fact, know that from experience.” From the night I became yours.

Ugh they are so sweet

Five minutes later, Roman’s palms brimmed with shampoo. The air was warm, the shower close to scalding as the water rushed down their bodies in rivulets. But Iris continued to nudge the lever more and more to the left, as if she wanted her water to feel like fire. Roman, skin splotched as if he were sunburned, would let her do anything, though.

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

This is THE quote of the book 🖤

The way Iris gazed up at him, her eyes dark as new moons, drawing him in like the tides. The way she held to him, whispering his name against his throat. How she moved with him, in the light as well as in the darkness. The feel of her skin against his; the sensation of being bare and yet whole. Safe and complete. She saw him as he saw her. With eyes open, with eyes shut. As the stars faithfully burned beyond the window, Roman had never been more certain. He could wake in the deepest region of Dacre’s realm, as far from the moon and sun as divinity could shackle him. 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. The way she had looked at him. The confidence of her hands. And he thought, There is no magic above or below that will ever steal this from me again.

Iris saw Dacre sitting at a long table set for tea, directly in her line of sight. Their gazes met and held like a spell had been cast. He was ageless, timeless, cut from sharp and terrible beauty. His appearance was difficult to look away from, both pleasing and deadly, as if one had stared too long at the sun. Iris could still see him when she closed her eyes, like his impression had been burned there.

Maybe I could fix him or something

And that, he had come to realize, was when his best words emerged. When he was with her.