Divine Rivals (Letters of Enchantment, #1)

by Rebecca Ross

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. But if I’ve learned anything from those fools, it’s that to be vulnerable is a strength most of us fear. It takes courage to let down your armor, to welcome people to see you as you are. Sometimes I feel the same as you: I can’t risk having people behold me as I truly am. But there’s also a small voice in the back of my mind, a voice that tells me, “You will miss so much by being so guarded.”

Perhaps it begins with one person. Someone you trust. You remove a piece of armor for them; you let the light stream in, even if it makes you wince. Perhaps that is how you learn to be soft yet strong, even in fear and uncertainty. One person, one piece of steel.

One person. One piece of armor. I’ll strive for this.

When Roman finally looked at her, time seemed to stall. His eyes were keen, as if he could see everything that dwelled in her—the light and the shadows. Her threads of ambition and desire and joy and grief. Never had a man looked at her in that way.

“They’re not even my sisters by blood, but I choose them. And that sort of love is everlasting.

I am so afraid. And yet how I long to be vulnerable and brave when it comes to my own heart.

I always knew you were my opposite. A nemesis usually is.”

to be vulnerable is a strength most of us fear. It takes courage to let down your armor, to welcome people to see you as you are.