Divine Rivals (Letters of Enchantment, #1)

by Rebecca Ross

Do you ever feel as if you wear armor, day after day? That when people look at you, they see only the shine of steel that you’ve so carefully encased yourself in?

I think we all wear armor. I think those who don’t are fools, risking the pain of being wounded by the sharp edges of the world, over and over again.

“You will miss so much by being so guarded.”

A piece of armor, because I trust you. A glint of falling steel, because I feel safe with you.

You will learn to live outside of it again, as impossible as that may sound. Others who share your pain will also help you heal. Because you are not alone. Not in your fear or your grief or your hopes or your dreams. You are not alone.

“I don’t want to wake up when I’m seventy-four only to realize I haven’t lived.”

“I’m Iris. Like an eyeball.”

Hahahahah

“All I ask is they have some dignity in death,” the officer replied. “I refuse to leave them vulnerable on the battlefield.”

This hits home

I don’t think you realize how strong you are, because sometimes strength isn’t swords and steel and fire, as we are so often made to believe. Sometimes it’s found in quiet, gentle places. The way you hold someone’s hand as they grieve. The way you listen to others. The way you show up, day after day, even when you are weary or afraid or simply uncertain.

He lunged across the distance, covering her with his body.

He could lose himself in those hazel eyes, in wanting to calm the fear that blazed within her. But he had never felt so terrified or powerless himself, and he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get them both out safely.

She has to survive this, Roman thought. He didn’t want to live in a world without her and her words.

“If you die in this trench,” Iris said, “then I die with you.

If you jump i jump jack

There was smoke in her hair, smoke in her lungs, smoke in her eyes, burning her up from within.

It’s odd, how quickly life can change, isn’t it? How one little thing like typing a letter can open a door you never saw. A transcendent connection. A divine threshold. But if there’s anything I can should say in this moment—when my heart is beating wildly in my chest and I would beg you to come and tame it—is this: your letters have been a light for me to follow. Your words? A sublime feast that fed me on days when I was starving. I love you, Iris. And I want you to see me. I want you to know me. Through the smoke and the firelight and kilometers that once dwelled between us. Do you see me?

Crying

I am coming to love him, in two different ways. Face to face, and word to word.

I grew something living in a season of death.

It’s not a crime to feel joy, even when things seem hopeless. Iris, look at me. You deserve all the happiness in the world. And I intend to see that you have it.”

“Iris,” said Roman, “you are worthy of love. You are worthy to feel joy right now, even in the darkness. And just in case you’re wondering … I’m not going anywhere, unless you tell me to leave, and even then, we might need to negotiate.”

pray that my days will be long at your side. Let me fill and satisfy every longing in your soul. May your hand be in mine, by sun and by night. Let our breaths twine and our blood become one, until our bones return to dust. Even then, may I find your soul still sworn to mine.”