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

by Stephanie Garber

But then suddenly she felt as if she was starting to remember something. There wasn’t much there, just a vague recollection of being held and carried, followed by a thought. 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 …

He laughed, the sound a little raspy, broken.

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. She could feel his heart pound against her chest as he carried her into the room next door to hers. It was a mess. There were apples and cores all over the desk. The sheets on the bed were thrashed. The fire was burning more than just logs.

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.

She was better off not knowing him. But he was enough of a bastard to hate that she’d forgotten.

“Wait!” Evangeline called. “What’s your name?” You already know, Little Fox.

“You can call me Archer.”

One corner of his mouth slowly tugged up into an almost smile. In that second, his entire face changed. He’d been handsome before, but now there something almost uncomfortable about how beautiful he was. But Evangeline didn’t want to think him beautiful at all. She had a feeling he was making fun of her, or that his smile was part of a private joke that she was not privy to. She scowled. This only made him grin wider. Which was worse. He had dimples. Unfair dimples. Dimples were supposed to be sweet, but she sensed this guard was anything except for that.

He banded one arm firmly around her ribs, the other he circled just below her waist, almost on her hips, his fingers splayed in a way that felt less like he wanted to restrain her and more like he just wanted to touch her—to hold her on that bridge in the dark where it was only the two of them and the rain and the feel of too many heartbeats racing between them.

“To love and to curses!”

“What are you to me?” she asked. Archer’s eyes locked with hers. “Nothing.” But it didn’t feel like nothing when his fingers reached down and he took hold of the sash that kept her robe tied together. He held it as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to untie it or tug her closer to him.

It was hard enough to stand there across from him, not touching in a way that almost felt more intimate than touching. It looked as if it was taking all his strength not to reach out and graze her fingers with his. As if one brush of their skin might set off a riot of sparks or blow out every light in the hall.

She tried to stop her thoughts from flickering back to Archer. He wasn’t hers to think about, and yet she kept picturing the way he’d looked in the hall, and how for a second, he’d seemed almost shy, almost scared, and almost hers.

If Jacks stayed, if he stormed in the room and used his powers to make Apollo watch as Jacks told Evangeline that she wasn’t nothing to him. That she was everything. That he’d turned back time to keep her alive, and he would make the same choice again.

Jacks wasn’t feeling much these days unless the feelings involved Evangeline, and he was trying his best to avoid those at the moment.

One of the reasons Jacks had allowed himself to be turned into a Fate was so that Castor wouldn’t be alone.

He’d never heard her curse properly before. She wasn’t very good at it, but she was trying furiously.

“Yes, I am a murderer. I enjoy hurting people. I like blood. I like pain. I am a monster, but whether you remember it or not, I’m your monster, Evangeline.”

wanted her to look at him, just once, and know him the way she had before.

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.

He would have set the world on fire and then let it all burn just to keep holding her like this.

“Welcome to the Hollow,” Jacks said softly.

“Please, Little Fox, remember.”

The name did something to her. Little Fox. Little Fox. Little Fox. Two simple words. Only they did not feel simple at all. They felt like falling. They felt like hope. They felt like the most important words in the world. The words made her blood rush and her head spin until once again it was only her and Jacks. Nothing existed except for the press of his cool forehead, the feel of his strong hand tangling in her hair, and the pleading, broken look in his quicksilver blue eyes.

“At this point, I’m just assuming everyone wants you dead.” “Does that include you?” “No.” There wasn’t even a second of hesitation.

Ye Olde Brick Inn at the End of the Forest: for Wayward Travelers and Adventurers. Beneath this sign was another swaying sign that contained the word: Vacancy. And then hooked beneath that was an even smaller sign that read: One Bed.

“You ask a lot of questions.” “Only because you do a lot of questionable things.”

He slowly worked his jaw. “I lied,” he said. “I do wish that we could have had a different ending.”

“Being yours does not make you mine.”

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

The only magic in the room was that of touch and heartbeats and Jacks. And for a moment it was perfect. He felt like hers and she felt as if she was his.

Jacks had been protecting her. He was always protecting her. And she needed to protect him.

“To foolish hearts and fire! May you and Jacks only ever burn with passion and desire.”

“What did you do? Why did Jacks fall for you?” “Well, she’s not a raging bitch like you,” said LaLa.

It was a kiss like a prayer, quiet, almost pleading, made of tremulous lips and nervous fingers. It felt like reaching out in the dark, hoping to find a light.

It was a gentler kiss than she would have imagined. Less of a fever dream and more of a secret, a whispered dangerous thing that might escape if he was too reckless.

“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.”

She thought she knew all his looks. She’d seen his taunting, his teasing, his anger, his fear. But she’d never seen him with so much wonder in his blue eyes. They glittered as the leaves of the phoenix tree rustled with a sound that made her think of a slow exhale.

Jacks idly stroked her jaw with his fingers. “I love you,” he said simply.

“You know,” she confessed, “I’ve always loved your dimples.” “I know.” He smirked. “You were so obvious with your love at first sight.”

“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.”

Jacks was still furious. And so when Wolfric Valor’s sons finally released him, more punches were thrown and violent curses were loosed. The words echoed across the moonlit cavern as fists hit faces and clothes were ripped.

Jacks was the first to freeze, followed by one of the Valor sons. The other Valor son, the broader of the two, punched Jacks in the stomach one final time—as if he couldn’t stop himself. But Evangeline had the feeling that he was just the sort who needed to get the last punch in.

“Where are we going?” she asked. A dimple appeared just below a cut on his cheek. “We can go wherever you want, Little Fox.”

“You can ask me whatever you want, Little Fox.” “Splendid!” Her mouth turned up into a sweet smile. “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.”