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

by Stephanie Garber

Hoping and imagining and believing in magic had always been like breathing to Evangeline.

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

“Evangeline.” Apollo lightly squeezed her hand. “The last thing I want is for you to be in pain, and I can see how much it hurts you to have forgotten so much. But if you never remember, it will be all right. We’ll make new memories together.”

Now he still wanted her, but in a different way. When he saw her, he didn’t want to kill her. He wanted to protect her. To keep her safe. This was why he’d erased her memories.

In the light of a fresh day, everything felt less like a blurred fever dream and more like a picture-perfect stained-glass window.

Evangeline’s room smelled of lavender tea, buttery pastries, and some unidentifiable grassy sweetness that made her think of exquisitely manicured gardens.

There were cookies shaped like castles, tarts topped in glistening pastel fruit, poached pears in a swirling golden sauce, candied dates wearing miniature crowns, and oysters on ice with pink pearls that glistened under the light.

He helped her with her cloak, warm fingers lingering at the nape of her neck as he moved her hair. It felt more intentional than accidental. In fact, Evangeline was beginning to suspect that everything Apollo did was by design.

The season appeared to have changed while she’d slept, turning from winter into spring. Instead of looking out her window to see blankets of white, she found eager green trees, happy shrubs and mosses, and glittering rocks.

Madame Voss set a beautiful blue book in Evangeline’s lap. Inside, the pages were gilded in a shimmering gold that matched the book’s decorative title. Evangeline read it aloud. “The Greatest Love Story Ever Told: The True and Unabridged History of Evangeline Fox and the Prince of Hearts.”

Once upon a time, a girl who believed in fairytales stole the heart of a prince who had sworn to never love.

Martine handed Evangeline a pink cloak and a long pair of sheer violet gloves.

So, no, I don’t know how much of a threat Lord Jacks is, but I’m starting to see you as one.”

“I do understand, and I hope you understand that as long as you treat me like an untrustworthy captive, I will act like one instead of like your wife.”

Evangeline might have decided that she didn’t want to act like his wife, but it didn’t change the fact that she was. She was his. And one way or the other, eventually she would want him as much as he wanted her.

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.

“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.”

“Have we met before?” she asked. “Do I know you?” “No. I don’t usually play with things that easily break.” He uncrossed his arms and shoved off the wall.

But it was too late now. It had been too late ever since he’d told Victor and Hansel to give Evangeline the falsified note from the tutor, to pretend to lose her in the gardens, and then to push her in the well. But Evangeline had given him no choice. She’d refused to believe that she was in danger. He had to show her that she was wrong.

“Continue to torture the tutor—I feel as if there’s a chance she could crack. Especially if you tell her that you’ve killed Victor and Hansel.”

“I know Victor and Hansel were your friends, but they betrayed Evangeline. We need to do this as an example.”

They were also carved of rare starstone, which glowed at night, adding an otherworldly quality to the court that he hoped would delight Evangeline.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered. Then because she was his, and because he could, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her neck.

“I also wanted to say, I heard about your fall yesterday, Your Highness. I’m so glad you were found in time and that the guards responsible for endangering your life have been put down like the dogs they are.” “Put … down?” Evangeline repeated. All the laughter vanished from her face as her gentle eyes went wide with alarm. Apollo could have killed Belleflower then. “I thought my guards were merely wanted for questioning?” she asked, turning to him.

“I fear that my court has forgotten how to celebrate. Much of what I’ve heard tonight are bland compliments and uninspired rumors. So let us lift our glasses to the glory of coming back from the dead and the magic of true love!”

Apollo cried, “May all those in this room who seek true love find it, and may those who stand in its way be cursed!”

The crowd all clinked their goblets and cheered with Apollo. “To love and to curses!”

“We rebuild to banish the ghosts of our pasts that dare to keep haunting us. For we are Northerners! We are not afraid of the myths and the legends! We are the myths and the legends!”

voice was low, on the edge of something deadly. “You need to be more careful.” “How is this my fault?” “You have no sense of self-preservation.” Archer took another angry step. “If someone labeled a bottle poison, you would drink it. You take warnings as invitations. You can’t seem to stay away from all the things that will hurt you.”

The Ballad of the Archer and the Fox. She’d thought the story had triggered her, but now she knew it was just the name. Archer.

Apollo clapped him on the shoulder. “I truly am sorry for your loss,” he whispered, “but soon you won’t feel any pain at all.” Then Apollo took his knife and stabbed the boy in the heart. Shock and pain briefly crossed the boy’s face before he fell back on the bed, as dead as the rest of his family.

Standing this close to Archer made her feel as if she couldn’t catch her breath, as if her blood was made of champagne bubbles all rushing to her head. “What are you to me?” she asked. Archer’s eyes locked with hers. “Nothing.”

said he was a liar. “Just tell me one thing that’s true,” she said, and then she promised herself silently that she would walk away from him, and from these feelings. “I know we met before you rescued me at the well.

“They’re still human, Castor. Humans do a lot of stupid things when they’re scared.” Jacks had. And the worst part was, he’d thought he’d been doing the right thing. As when Castor had died. Jacks had been the one who’d told Castor’s mother, Honora, to bring him back from the dead. Castor and Lyric had been Jacks’s best friends, more like his brothers. Lyric had just died, and Jacks couldn’t lose Castor, too.

Jacks looked like a happy ending that was just out of reach,

It was believed to have been a favorite forest of the Valors, and the Valors were said to be the forest’s favorite family. Thus when the Valors were all beheaded, the forest grieved for its beloved family. It grieved so deeply that it transformed into something else entirely. Something cursed that in turn cursed all those who dared to enter it.

the baker down the street tried out a new recipe for stained-glass cookies

Blueberry Lemonade Lavender Lemonade with Honey Ice Crushed Strawberry Lemonade with Basil Leaves And then the most delicious of all, Whipped Lemonade!

It was made of cream, lemons, and sugar, and topped off with a glittering dollop of vanilla cream.

It was cruel of him to want her to want him again. If she remembered, it would only hurt her more. He was still haunted by the last time he’d seen her with her memories. It had been right outside the Valory. Hours before, he’d felt her die in his arms. Evangeline had no idea what had happened, no clue that Jacks had already used the stones to turn back time for her. She was trying to talk him out of using them to go back to Donatella. She’d asked him to come with her instead. After everything, she’d still wanted him. 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

After everything, she’d still wanted him. 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. But he couldn’t see her die again. His first fox had believed in him, and she had died, just like Evangeline would. There was only one way their story ended, and it wasn’t happy. Her hope might have been powerful, but it wasn’t magic. It wasn’t enough. It was better to hurt her, better to break her heart, to do whatever he needed to do, to keep her alive and to keep her away from him. That hadn’t changed. But today, Jacks was failing at letting her go. He wanted to keep her pressed to the floor beneath him. He would have set the world on fire and then let it all burn just to keep holding her like this. He

he closed his eyes, that he would go with her anywhe...

Her hope might have been powerful, but it wasn’t magic. It wasn’t enough. It was better to hurt her, better to break her heart, to do whatever he needed to do, to keep her alive and to keep her away from him. That hadn’t changed.

Dumplings & Meat, Fish Stew, Mystery Stew, Toast and Tea, Porridge, Ale, Beer, Mead, Wine Cider, Honey Pie, Brambleberry Crisp, Forest Cakes.

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.” The name did something to her. Little Fox. Little Fox. Little Fox.

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.

The Tree of Souls is evil.” “Sometimes evil is necessary.”

“There is never necessary evil, just poor choices, and I fear you’re about to make one, boy.”

“I’m not letting you leave. You said you were my monster. If you’re mine, why bring me here just to leave me? None of this makes sense.” He gritted his teeth. “Being yours does not make you mine.”

just a thought she was presently having. Her memories didn’t feel so much like her past as they felt like their story. The story of Evangeline and Jacks. And it was a beautiful story, her new favorite story.