One Dark Window (The Shepherd King, #1)

by Rachel Gillig

leaving me alone, bereft, with the dying roses.

Bereft and reeling my beloved ghost and me #swiftie

Still, there was darkness in Ravyn’s quiet. I could see it in his expression—the cool control of his features. He, like me, had learned to still his face—to obscure his thoughts under a mask of control and austerity.

Masking at its finest, we do this daily when interacting with others

“Nothing too deep. No need to scar these beautiful hands.”

Swoon!

Perhaps I’d leave my dress behind as a final farewell to the world and steal into the trees like a ghost, absorbed by darkness and moss.

Cheeky and poetic

I saw the world through his gray eyes—felt the weight of his responsibilities and treacheries—as if they were stones sewn into the fabric of my dress.

Heavy

I had not fit into anyone’s arms like that since childhood. And even then, no one had ever held me so tightly—as if they needed me in their arms as much as I needed to be held. As if nothing else mattered but to hold one another.

Earth shattering words because it is so relatable.