She made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a gasp. “Was that really necessary?”
“No, but everyone should have their clothes ripped off at some point.”
She imagined Jacks was mostly trying to distract her from all the pain, yet she blushed all the way from her cheeks to her chest.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him smile.
And for a second, nothing hurt.
He strode away from her and returned a few moments later with a folded bundle of cloth that smelled a little like a forest, clean and crisp and woodsy. “You’ll want to prop your arms on this.”
“For what?”
“I need to bandage you now.”
Her stomach dipped as she realized what that meant: to dress her back, he’d have to wrap the cloths around her bare stomach and chest.
“I can close my eyes,” he said, “but then I’ll have to feel my way around your body.”
Evangeline felt fresh butterflies along with the strange feeling that, unlike with his earlier comment, Jacks wasn’t joking now. The thought made her slightly dizzy as she rested her elbows on the pile of cloth.
She briefly closed her eyes, but all that did was make her more aware of Jacks’s breath against her neck as he hovered over her back and put a cool hand under her bare stomach. He was helping to lift her from the mattress, but all she could think was that his fingers were splayed across her naked skin.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Little Fox, or the bandages will be too tight.”
She breathed and tried to focus on the snow that fell on the other side of the windows like feathers, floating down in dreamy flakes, as Jacks started wrapping the cloth around her. He was gentle with the bandage, but a little careless with his hands—every time he wrapped the fabric around, she felt his cool fingertips brushing her stomach or ribs and occasionally her breasts.
Every touch brought a rush of electricity to her skin, and she found herself wanting to lean in. It was absurd—she was injured, and he was merely tending to her wounds. But it didn’t feel like that; it felt like more. Or maybe she just wanted it to be more—maybe she wanted him.
She immediately tried to banish the thought. She couldn’t want Jacks. But it was hard to think of all the terrible things he’d done while he continued bandaging her. She felt his breath against her neck, and she wished for a second their story could have a different ending.
The thought was instantly followed by a hot flash of guilt and a memory of Apollo telling her he wanted to try.
But then she could feel Jacks’s hands again, and she wished that it was Jacks she was trying to save instead of Apollo.
She closed her eyes, forbidding all thoughts of Jacks and willing herself to just think of Apollo—or really anything except for Jacks. When she opened them again, she focused on the twisting branches that helped form the walls of the cozy loft. It was then that she noticed the vertical line of notches on the wood. The sort that children made to measure their height.
There appeared to be about five years’ worth of measurements, with five names carved beside them:
Aurora
Lyric
Castor
Jacks
She wasn’t sure what made her heart stop—the fact that his name was on this wall, or that another name appeared near the top, during the final year: the Archer.
33
Evangeline’s already-light head started spinning. If Jacks’s name was on this wall along with the other members of the Merrywood Three, then he must have been telling her the truth all this time. He wasn’t one of the Merrywood Three.
She felt a shock that Jacks had been so honest. But there was also a swirl of disappointment that she had been so wrong. But maybe she hadn’t been entirely wrong. Even if Jacks hadn’t been a member of the Merrywood Three, they had clearly been friends. They must have all taken holidays here. And maybe whatever had happened in the past still had something to do with why he wanted to open the Valory Arch.
To open this arch, Jacks had upended her life, he’d brought her to the North, he’d cursed someone so she’d get married, he’d turned her into a fugitive, and he’d no doubt done countless other things, and she wanted to know why.
He’d never answered her before, so she doubted he’d tell her now. But maybe she could get him to reveal something that might give her more of a clue as to what he wanted. “Can you tell me about the names carved into the wood?”
Jacks’s fingers stilled. “I forgot those were here.”
His wrapping of the bandages grew rougher. Evangeline winced as he pulled on the cloth.