It would have been easy for Evangeline to simply stand there. To let Marisol enter the solarium without warning her. Marisol’s history with Luc was her own fault. She’d put Luc under a love spell to steal him from Evangeline. Then, when Luc had been disfigured by a wolf attack, Marisol had rejected and shunned him. Luc deserved the chance to confront her.
But Evangeline knew that wasn’t what he wanted from Marisol.
Evangeline felt a twist in her gut.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jacks said, “but some people get things because they deserve them.”
Evangeline knew he was right. Marisol was no innocent. She’d done terrible things. But that didn’t mean that Evangeline could just let Luc kill her.
Before she lost her resolve, Evangeline started down the royal hall. Marisol blanched as she neared. Then the girl’s eyes went wide as Jacks came up beside her. She slowly took in every inch of him, from his polished boots to his rakish half cape, to the cruel line of his mouth.
Marisol had met Jacks at Nocte Neverending and been instantly enthralled. He’d had dark blue hair then, nothing like the brilliant gold that crowned him now, but she clearly recognized him. Her breath went shallow, excited. Then her eyes hardened and she glared at Evangeline, probably remembering the way she’d warned Marisol away from him. “You are such a little hypocrite.”
Told you she deserves it, Jacks thought at Evangeline.
She ignored him, pushing aside his words, along with the bite in her stepsister’s voice. All she had to do was warn her. Then hopefully she’d be done with her for good.
“You need to get out of here,” Evangeline said. “Leave Wolf Hall and the North.”
Marisol snorted. “You can’t make me go anywhere. You’re just a ruined girl with a dead husband. The servants might call you Princess, but most of them still think you murdered your prince.”
Evangeline flinched.
Jacks ground his jaw. “You’re a nasty piece of work.”
“I’m just telling the truth.”
“So am I,” Jacks said.
Marisol’s cheeks grew bright red, but she lifted her chin with a haughty sniff. “I’m going to meet Prince Lucien now.”
“If you go through those doors, you will never come back out again,” Evangeline said.
Marisol rolled her eyes. “Is that really the best you can do?”
“It’s the truth.” Prince Lucien is really Luc, and he’s a vampire! Evangeline wanted to scream, but she feared saying the word vampire would only work against her. Jacks had once told her that all the stories about vampires were cursed, but instead of warping the truth, like the other cursed tales of the North, stories about vampires manipulated the way people felt. No matter what a person was told about vampires, they would always be intrigued instead of horrified.
Marisol spun on her heel and strode toward the solarium doors.
Evangeline felt a brief flicker of indecision as she turned toward Jacks.
Before, she’d thought her feelings for Marisol were complicated, but they were actually very simple. All that Evangeline really wanted from her stepsister was an apology. She wanted her to feel some regret or remorse for the selfish things she’d done. She didn’t want her dead.
And yet the only way to save her now would be to ask Jacks for help.
Evangeline swallowed. Something metallic coated her tongue. It tasted like a price she didn’t want to pay. She reminded herself that she could not trust Jacks. She could not be tricked into believing he was her friend or make a habit of turning to him for help. She would just do it this one time.
“Please,” Evangeline whispered to Jacks, “use your powers to stop her.”
He raised one imperious brow. “You’re asking me for a favor?”
“I’m asking you to show some humanity.” Which actually felt almost as dangerous. If Jacks did this for free, it would be easier to once again think he was something he was not. But, from the unfeeling look on his face, that clearly wouldn’t be an issue.
“You’re asking for the wrong thing,” he said.
The guards reached for the solarium handles.
Evangeline’s insides tightened. If Jacks wasn’t going to stop Marisol, then she was going to have to try again. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she started toward the solarium after her stepsister.
“Don’t.” Jacks grabbed her hand, his grip firm and cold.
Evangeline started to pull away.
But then she saw Marisol. One moment her stepsister was at the doors, and then she was backing away, flitting like a frightened bird with thin brown hair whipping around her face. She tripped on the hem of her skirts, stumbling a bit against the stone floors before breaking into a run down the opposite side of the castle hall.
Jacks had used his power to save her, after all.
Evangeline’s shoulders felt lighter, but her chest felt tighter. She waited for Jacks to say that she owed him now. He’d already dropped her hand, but he was eyeing the last remaining broken heart scar on her wrist. The reminder of the other debt that she hadn’t finished paying—the final kiss she owed.
Jacks hadn’t mentioned the debt in a while, but she felt a rush of fresh nerves as she wondered if he would collect soon—if this final kiss was what he’d referred to when he’d promised earlier that she would really start to hate him.
Havelock cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Your Highness.”
Startled, Evangeline leaped farther away from Jacks. She wasn’t sure when the guard had crept up. But one look at Havelock’s woebegone face and she knew that she didn’t want to hear what he had to tell her.
Not now.
Evangeline didn’t think she could handle much more. She wasn’t even sure she was doing a very good job of handling what she’d just been dealt. If not for Jacks, Marisol would be dead right now. Evangeline didn’t regret asking him to save her, but she couldn’t ask him for more. She needed to get away from him and from everything else. She’d been trying so hard to do the right thing, to make the noble choice, to be the hero, and she was exhausted.
Jacks often told Evangeline that heroes didn’t get happy endings, but in that moment, Evangeline wasn’t looking for happiness. She just wanted a break. A moment of peace before being confronted with another catastrophe. Was that too much to ask?
She looked at her bandaged hand now. The wound she shared with Apollo had stopped bleeding, and the rest of her—aside from her battered heart—was sound. Therefore, Apollo wasn’t in any immediate danger. Whatever Havelock had wanted from her could wait.
“I’m leaving,” she announced. “And I don’t want anyone to follow me.” She didn’t know exactly where she was going yet, but she could figure that out later. Maybe she’d go visit LaLa and her new fiancé and eat cake until the world turned sweet again, or perhaps she’d just hop onto a horse until she rode herself into a new story. All she knew was that she had to get out of Wolf Hall.
Evangeline had always thought the great Northern castle was magical, and it was—but it was full of the wrong sort of magic. Nearly every single memory she had inside these stone walls was tainted with some sort of curse or betrayal.
Her black-and-white skirts swished around her ankles as she turned away from both Havelock and Jacks.
“Your Highness.” Havelock marched after her. “You can’t simply leave—”
“I’m sorry,” she cut in. “I appreciate you, Havelock, but I can’t handle more bad news at this particular minute. So unless you’re going to tell me wish-granting unicorns have arrived, I need a moment, possibly quite a few moments, to myself.”
She quickened her steps to almost a run. Her skirts were heavy, but her boots were blessedly sturdy, making it easy to take a flight of stairs and then hurry down a hall to a door that led outside. The air was cold as she burst into the Northern night, canopied by a sky of foreign constellations that she had yet to learn.
Maybe she could just return to the south and to her home in the Meridian Empire. She could leave the North and all its curses. But even as she thought it, Evangeline knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want another story; she wanted to fix this story. She wanted to save Apollo. She wanted a chance to know him when he wasn’t under a spell. She wanted to believe that their story wasn’t over. She wanted the happy ending that she’d come here for.
Evangeline ventured deeper into the garden, frozen flower petals crackling under her shoes. Then she heard another pair of footsteps—lighter than hers, but growing closer.
The broken heart scar on her wrist started burning. Sometimes she was able to ignore the sensation, but right now, it was stronger than usual, as if Jacks wanted her to know that he was inescapable.
Evangeline hastened her pace, hoping to lose him in the shadows of the darkened garden. But Jacks didn’t stop following her, and she had a feeling he never would.
She almost laughed at the idea that she’d thought she could run away from him. That he would simply let her go.
Evangeline forced herself to stop beneath the amber glow of a garden lamp shaped like a bowing flower. Cold bit her cheeks and licked her hands, but Jacks didn’t so much as shiver as he strode toward her, indifferent to the bitter air that froze the tips of his hair and lashes. He slid through the icy night like a slow-falling star, all unearthly eyes and graceful moves.
She folded her arms across her chest, which probably didn’t look as forceful as she wanted with Jacks’s handkerchief still wrapped around her hand; one more reminder of how he’d helped her, even if it was with another problem he’d possibly created. “Jacks, leave me alone.”
He took another slow step. “You’re a little scary right now, did you know that?”
She glared at him.
“That was a compliment, Little Fox.” He reached toward her and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear with one featherlight touch.
Butterflies moved inside her. Different from the ones that she felt whenever she saw Apollo. Because Apollo didn’t frighten her.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked.
Jacks chuckled. “If I knew all it took to scare you was a little touch, I would have tried this sooner.” His fingertips played with her earlobe.
Evangeline pulled away, almost stumbling on the frozen ground. She hated that her legs were so unsteady. That one small touch could affect her so.
Even seconds later the ground was still shuddering. It didn’t feel quite like a true tremor, more like a shiver moving across the garden, and suddenly, Evangeline feared it wasn’t just from her wobbly limbs.
Outside the circle of garden lights above them, the world was darker. Curling mist instead of shrubs and trees. As Evangeline looked out, she had the same prickly sense she’d gotten nearly a week ago when Jacks had followed her into the library.
Someone was watching.
“I think someone else is here,” she whispered. Her eyes strained until she saw a figure appear in the distance. It was far enough away that it could have just been a trick of the shadows, but it looked to Evangeline like a rider astride a horse.
Jacks frowned. “It’s probably that gossipmonger from the scandal sheets.”
But Evangeline didn’t think so. This horseman looked broader and stronger, and familiar.
She took a step forward into the shadows.
“What are you doing?” Jacks asked.
“Don’t worry,” Evangeline replied. “I’m sure whoever it is couldn’t be more dangerous than you.”
But the truth was, something about this rider called to her. The only other one who had made her feel anything like this was Jacks. The broken heart scar on her wrist tied her to him, tingling and burning and reminding her that he was inescapable. With the rider, it was different. There was no tingle. It was more like a tether, pulling her toward him with an invisible cord. Snow fluttered around her shoulders as she continued down the moonlit path.
Leaves rustled, the horse whinnied, and a shaft of moonlight lit the horseman, enough for Evangeline to see clearly the familiar edges of his handsome face. Apollo.
