Stephanie Rowland

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I had forgotten that it was possible for the roots of someone’s affection to run so deep, so solid. I could build a life in the branches of this tree. I could cradle a generation’s future nestled in its leaves. But I still had so many scars. And it’s hard to dream when you’re surrounded by the ashes of loss. Hard not to wonder if whatever scraps you have left over are even worth offering someone who deserves so much. I squeezed my eyes shut. They prickled. “I love you,” I choked out. Love. The word was all I had. Still, it didn’t feel like enough.
Children of Fallen Gods (The War of Lost Hearts, #2)
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