A Court of Hearts and Hunger (Wicked Darlings, #2)

by Rebecca F. Kenney

Maybe love is simply reminding someone how wonderful they are, how strong they are. Showing them the shining potential you can see. Lifting them up to be the best of themselves.

I know what I saw. I won’t be discounted as mad, drunk, or a liar. I’m none of those things. Curiosity is the dagger on which we impale ourselves.

You are my entire realm, and I will commit any atrocity to secure your happiness.”

Two beings of a different race, gender, and background, yet we are parallel hearts, matched souls, mirrored minds. Distinctly ourselves, and yet attuned to each other, almost from the moment we met.

Perhaps that’s what love is—the gradual disappearance of the walls between two souls. Some walls evaporate on their own; others have to be dismantled, brick by brick. Sometimes you reach out, thinking all the walls have been deconstructed, only to find a thick glass shield around the heart of the one you love. Only the heat of a persistent, intense devotion can ever soften it. I will melt Fin’s final wall, if it takes me years. That sweet, wounded heart of his is worth it.