“Yes. It’s an old story,” LaLa said. “Most people in the North know the bit I just told you, but they don’t remember who the dragon was—” LaLa’s mouth contorted once more, words failing her before she finally said, “My first love is the true reason I’m the Unwed Bride. My grooms never leave me. I always call things off with them because I’ve never been able to let go of my love. I chose to become a Fate because Fates aren’t supposed to be able to love, and I wanted to stop loving him. I wanted to let him go. But I can’t.”
LaLa ran one hand up and down a brown arm covered in a brilliant dragon fire tattoo. Evangeline had always thought the ink was because LaLa had so much spark to her personality, but now Evangeline knew the tattoo was for her very first love.
“I’ve tried to fall for others. But no matter how close I come to falling in love, there’s still only one person that I want to give my heart to. And there’s only one way for that to happen.”
LaLa stopped pacing and looked at Evangeline with eyes full of sparkling tears. LaLa had once confessed she wanted love so badly she cried poison tears. At the time, Evangeline thought she understood. She desperately wanted love, too. But to have found true love and lost it, and yet still have a sliver of hope of getting it back, was another type of torture entirely.
“Your love is in the Valory,” Evangeline guessed.
LaLa didn’t respond, as if she couldn’t even acknowledge the question. But Evangeline imagined she was right—locking a dragon shifter in the Valory fit with the version of the story that said the Valory was an enchanted prison that locked away magical beings.
“Why didn’t you just tell me this story before when I came to your flat?” Evangeline asked.
LaLa’s face fell further. “I never tell this tale. And I wanted to believe that I had finally fallen in love with someone else. I didn’t want to admit that my shiny new engagement was another lie I was telling myself because I couldn’t get over my childhood love. But then I suddenly feared that I was going to lose my only chance at seeing my true love again, and, well—you know the rest.” LaLa’s forehead creased with regretful lines. “I hope you can forgive me for cursing you and Apollo.”
Evangeline hesitated. She was still hurt by what LaLa had done, but she also hurt for LaLa and all that she’d been through.
“Just promise not to do it again.” Evangeline reached forward and gave her friend a hug. “We all make mistakes for love. I was so desperate to hold on to my first love that I made a deal with Jacks that turned an entire wedding party into stone.”
This made LaLa laugh. “I didn’t know Jacks could turn people into stone.”
“He can’t. Poison owed him a favor, and Jacks had him do it.”
LaLa pulled away and gave Evangeline a peculiar look. “Speaking of Jacks, I’m afraid you might be in danger.”
The ground started shaking as soon as she said danger.
LaLa cursed, and when she spoke again, her words came out in a torrent. “Listen to me carefully. You’ve been missing for weeks, Evangeline. We all thought you were dead until Jacks appeared a few days ago. I think he has the mirth stone and it’s clouding his judgment.”
The ground cracked. LaLa jumped back, and more stones fell from her gown into the growing fissure.
“From the look of this dream, it seems he’s tucked you away in the Hollow,” she rushed out. “I’m sure it feels like a haven right now, but as long as you are with Jacks, you’re not safe.” More of the ground began to crumble. “If you think you are safe—it’s only because you’re feeling the effects of the mirth stone as well. But you have to fight it. Find the mirth stone, get it away from Jacks, and get out of the Hollow, before—”
39
Evangeline woke up on a swallowed gasp that tasted like magic and cold. Her lips were on Jacks’s throat. She felt a burst of panic, until piece by piece last night came back.
Jacks had returned. He’d been wounded. He’d healed. Then he’d asked her to stay. He’d tugged her onto the bed. He’d held her close. And then he’d said, Let me pretend you’re mine.
She melted once more at the memory of how he’d said the word mine. It was only supposed to be for the night, but the pretending hadn’t stopped. Light was bleeding through the windows, showering them in sunshine as they lay together, legs and arms entwined. One of his cool hands wrapped protectively around her waist, and the other had made its way up her skirt, holding her to him as if touching were a form of breathing.