A Curse for True Love (Once Upon a Broken Heart, #3)

by Stephanie Garber

He was beautiful. Inhuman. A warrior angel with blue eyes and golden hair and a face that made Evangeline think that writing poetry should be her new hobby. He almost appeared to be glowing. It made her wonder if he was right, if maybe she really was half dead and he was the angel taking her to heaven. “I’m not taking you to heaven,” he muttered

He held her so tightly it hurt, but this pain she didn’t mind. She’d let him crush her, let him break her, just as long as he never let her go. This was what she wanted, and she refused to believe that he didn’t want it, too.

Jacks had always considered himself more of a sadist than a masochist. He enjoyed inflicting pain, not receiving it. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave the shadows of Evangeline’s bedroom. It wasn’t an obsession. One visit wasn’t an obsession. Jacks just needed to make sure she was still alive. That she wasn’t bleeding. In danger. Unhappy. Cold. She was safe in her bed. She’d be even safer when he left her. But he was too selfish to leave just yet. He leaned against the bedpost and watched as she slept. He’d never understood why someone would watch another person sleep … until her.

“Wait!” Evangeline called. “What’s your name?” You already know, Little Fox. But once again, his thoughts weren’t projected loudly enough for her to hear. Instead, he gave her the name he’d planned on. He knew she wouldn’t remember it, and he needed to make sure he didn’t forget it. “You can call me Archer.”

He had dimples. Unfair dimples. Dimples were supposed to be sweet, but she sensed this guard was anything except for that.

Jacks had so badly wanted to tell her that he couldn’t even remember what Donatella looked like, that Evangeline’s face was the only one he saw whenever he closed his eyes, that he would go with her anywhere … if he could.

She tried to pull away, but Jacks held tight, knotting her hair in his fist and keeping his forehead pressed to hers. “Please, Little Fox, remember.”

“This is a very bad idea,” Jacks murmured. “I would have thought you liked bad ideas.” “Only when they’re mine.”

And was it just Evangeline’s imagination, or did he puff out his chest? Until that moment, she’d still been thinking of him as Chaos. But now as he sat up taller, with his cape rakishly tossed over one shoulder, she could see him as Castor Valor, the cocky young prince of the Magnificent North.

“Don’t you have virgin blood to drink or something?” “Virgin blood?” Castor smiled one of those devastating vampire smiles as he shoved a hand through his hair in very devil-may-care fashion. “What kind of stories have you been reading about me?” “I don’t read any stories about you,” LaLa huffed, but Evangeline swore there was a deeper color on her cheeks. “So it’s just a coincidence that you’re quoting one of them?” “I know you drink blood,” she said. Castor’s gaze turned heated. I’d like to drink your blood, it seemed to say.

And suddenly everything felt a little hotter than it should have been. LaLa did not seem to like Castor, but Evangeline surmised that the vampire felt quite differently about her.

“I can’t believe I used to think Jacks was the smart one.” Once again, LaLa glared at Castor. “Why didn’t you stop him?” “I tried.” “Pfft,” LaLa said. “Clearly you didn’t try hard enough.” “This isn’t Castor’s fault,” Evangeline said, but neither of them was paying attention to her. “Have you ever successfully stopped Jacks?” asked Castor.

“I already told you. You are the love of my life. You are mine, Jacks of the Hollow. And you’re not going to be the end of me.” “But you were dying.” “No,” she said, a little embarrassed. “I just forgot to breathe.”

At some point, they’d moved closer to the tree. Now Jacks’s back was resting against the trunk as she rested against him. The sky had turned to dusk, but there was illumination from the tree’s glowing golden leaves. She didn’t remember the leaves glowing before, but there was enough light to see a wave of golden hair fall across Jacks’s forehead as his mouth twisted darkly and he held her a little tighter on his lap.

Jacks idly stroked her jaw with his fingers. “I love you,” he said simply. Then his face went abruptly serious. “I’m never going to let you out of my sight.” “You say that as if it should be a threat.” He continued to look at her solemnly. “This isn’t just for now, it’s for always, Little Fox.” “I like the sound of always.” She smiled against his fingers, and then she reached up to touch his cheek, because now he was smiling, too.

She traced one of his dimples with his fingers. “You know,” she confessed, “I’ve always loved your dimples.” “I know.” He smirked. “You were so obvious with your love at first sight.” “It was not love at first sight.” She huffed. “I only said I liked your dimples at the start.” She dropped her hand from his cheek. “I didn’t even like you. I thought you were terrible.” “And yet.” He grabbed her hand again and wrapped it around his neck. “You kept staring.” “Well…” She wrapped her other hand around his neck before sliding her fingers back into his hair. She really loved his hair. “I might not have liked you, but you were always ridiculously handsome.”

“Tell me about the apples.” “Next question.” “You said I could ask whatever I wanted.” The not-quite-human-boy’s eyes turned teasing, sparking with little flecks of silver. “I didn’t say that I would answer.” The girl’s mouth fell into a pout. The not-quite-human reached out with one finger and traced her lower lip. “It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. “I don’t need them anymore.”