Between Wrath and Mercy (The Divine Between, #1)

by Jess Wisecup

I had once believed that to know love was to lose it. Maybe I still did. Perhaps it was love to know there was a price and to find it worth paying all the same. Perhaps it was love to have an unshakable madness burrow under your skin, asking you to choose that which terrified and exhilarated you, over and over, knowing one day it wouldn’t be a choice. Knowing that one day—when you are truly dependent on it—it will leave. By accident, choice, or time, it will be gone. Perhaps love was risk. Perhaps love was taking a leap and hoping you could withstand what happened after. I didn’t know much about it, not this kind, not in the way many seemed to know about love. But what I did know was it had found me and never left. This love had been there all along, waiting for me to choose it. This love felt like daylight, golden and warm. The first rays of sun after a long, hard night. This love felt like courage. Like the first timid steps on an uncertain path. But I was changed and made anew, still soaking in the afterglow of the light we had become. And I knew there was no going back.