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July 29 - July 31, 2025
“Children treat their toys better than you’ve treated me.”
Happy endings can be caught, but they are difficult to hold on to. They are dreams that want to escape the night. They are treasure with wings. They are wild, feral, reckless things that need to be constantly chased, or they will certainly run away.
“Do you kiss the prince because you actually enjoy it?” Jacks asked. “Or is it because you honestly think it will magically revive him?” “Maybe I do it because I know it will annoy you,” Evangeline answered archly. Jacks flashed a smile that was far more wicked than welcoming. “Glad to know you’re thinking about me when you kiss your husband.”
“I hurt everyone, Little Fox. But you have to be alive to hate me.” His eyes iced over. “I do not want you dead, and I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
“Gods, you’re beautiful.”
“Evangeline—” It sounded like Jacks’s voice. But he’d said her name, not Little Fox. Jacks never said her name. Then he was murmuring something else. Two more words she’d never heard. “I’m sorry,” he said, just before it all truly went dark.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jacks growled.
Something loud cracked in the doorway. Her eyes shot back to Jacks, who was fisting the now splintered edge of the door. Had he done that with his hands?
She wanted him to rip Chaos off her chest so that he could pin her to the bed instead.
“Find a way to break this spell that compels me to hunt you, and I promise, I’ll do nothing but protect you.”
Jacks’s chest was heaving, his clothes were soaked, his hair was a mess across his face—yet in that moment, Evangeline knew he would carry her through more than just freezing waters. He would pull her through fire if he had to, haul her from the clutches of war, from falling cities and breaking worlds. And for one brittle heartbeat, Evangeline understood why so many girls had died from his lips. If Jacks hadn’t betrayed her, if he hadn’t set her up for murder, she might have been a little bewitched by him.
“You talk in your sleep,” he drawled. “You said my name—a lot.”
“Ballads never end happily, everyone knows that.
“Yes, I’ll help you open the arch,” she said. “But I’m not getting dressed while you’re in here.” “That’s too bad,” Jacks murmured. Then he was gone. And Evangeline was grateful he could not see her sudden blush.
“I was just wondering why you always carry apples.”
“Trust me, Little Fox, you’re better off not knowing.”
“You could at least say please.” “I could, but then you might think I’m being nice, and I would hate to confuse you.”
And truth—” Jacks smirked. “The truth is never what you want it to be, Little Fox.”
She used to think love was like a house. Once it was built, a person got to live in it forever. But now she wondered if love was more
like a war with new foes constantly appearing and battles creeping up. Winning at love was less about succeeding in a battle and more about continuing to fight, to choose the person you loved as the one you were willing to die for, over and over.
“You can try.” “You know there’s no cure.” “You can try to find one,” Jacks ground out. “She could die.” “You won’t let her.”
Because she was starting to care for him.
“I hope you brought enough apples.”
“You think about what I do when you’re not around?” “Careful, Little Fox.” He took a step forward. “You sound rather excited by the idea.”
“Are you controlling them?” Evangeline asked. “Don’t need to.” Jacks winked at the pair. They giggled in response. Evangeline decided she didn’t like the sound of giggling.
“Which House are you from?” “I’m from a very old House.” Jacks took a sip from his goblet. “Everyone in my family died a long time ago.”
“Still think you know what I need?”
“I’m not a human, Evangeline. And I’m not your friend, or your husband, or your lover.”
“Then don’t try to make me act like it. It doesn’t end well.” The
“This doesn’t end well.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I saw the way you looked when you arrived here with your arm around her shoulders.” “How did I look?” “Like you would kill for her.” “I would kill for a lot of things.” “Just be sure you don’t kill her,”
“This dance is already taken.”
“Is this how you always get dance partners? By threatening to kill the other suitors?”
“Don’t test me tonight, Little Fox.” Jacks’s free hand flexed as if to grab a sword. But then he wrapped it possessively around her waist instead.
“It hurts, Jacks.”
“I know, love. I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”
“Do you often travel with girls who’ve been flayed?”
“Would you be jealous if I did?”
“Of course” came out.
“It’s all right. I’d probably kill another man if I found him with you like this.”
“Was that really necessary?” “No, but everyone should have their clothes ripped off at some point.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him smile. And for a second, nothing hurt.
She felt his breath against her neck, and she wished for a second their story could have a different ending.
“If you want me to sleep, tell me a bedtime story.” “This isn’t a bedtime story, Little Fox.” “Most fairytales aren’t.”
It smelled of him; of apples and magic and cold, moonlit nights.
“Are you jealous of Luc?” “I thought we already covered that yesterday. I’m always jealous. And so are you,”
think you’ve been naughty, Little Fox.” He made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Where did you find the truth stone?”
“Don’t, please—”
“I just want to understand you, Jacks.”
“Do you still think of me as just a tool?”
