“I do,” Jacks said without hesitation. “But I gave Chaos my word that I wouldn’t use them until after he opened the arch and removed his helm, and he can’t do that until it’s dark. So why don’t you go be a good little key and lock yourself safely inside of your suite.”
Evangeline seethed. She still suspected maybe Jacks was trying to annoy her to hide any feelings he still had, and if that was the case, then he was succeeding.
“Don’t worry, Jacks, I would never inconvenience you by dying.” She stalked off toward her room. It was tempting to look for Apollo just to make Jacks mad. She also imagined that once she saw the prince again, it would be easier to stop thinking of Jacks. Because right now, it felt impossible.
Evangeline passed the courtyard where she’d found him playing checkers, and it made her think of the conversation she’d overheard him have with LaLa, the one that made it sound as if he’d spent his time away from her searching for a cure to the Archer’s curse. Hearing that conversation had made her dare to think he cared, but now she wished that he’d just been playing games. It was so much easier not to like him when he was being selfish.
Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.
She swiped at them, refusing to cry for him. But it was so hard. All of it hurt. It hurt to want him. It hurt to be rejected by him. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to cry. It hurt even more when she tried not to cry.
Her head was throbbing and heart was heavy by the time she reached her room. It was cold and dark, but she only lit a few of the candles before collapsing into bed.
She was still clutching the iron jar with the mirth stone. It would have been so easy to take the lid off. And really, what harm could it do? The stone took away pain, and she was in so much pain.
Evangeline’s fingers hovered over the lid. Then she gently knocked it off.
42
The relief was sweet and instant. Evangeline’s shoulders relaxed, her eyelids closed, her chest felt as if she could finally breathe without all the weight pressing on it.
The wanting was still there. When she closed her eyes, she found herself straining to hear a knock on the door followed by Jacks’s low voice. But instead of falling apart at the silence, she felt a quiet sort of hope. She could not believe Jacks didn’t care for her. She couldn’t believe his feelings for her were only because of this stone. She—
She was being delusional.
Evangeline forced herself to put the lid back on top of the iron jar. Then she shoved it under her pillow so that it was out of sight. No matter how much she wanted to numb the heartache, living in a delusion was not the answer. It would be better soon. Once she opened the arch and broke the Archer’s curse, things would be different with her and Apollo—that at least was a guarantee. But what kind of different would it be?
A shudder racked her body. It was tempting to reach under the pillow and take out the stone again. Just until it was time to use it. But maybe she needed to feel this pain to get over it.
Evangeline hugged her pillow as she closed her eyes.
Time moved in that slow sort of way when it seems as if it’s not moving at all. There was no change in the light or the temperature, until suddenly there was. The air thickened. A second later, she felt feather-soft fingers brushing her hair away from her cheek.
“Jacks—” Her heartbeat skipped and her eyes fluttered open—and she swallowed a cry.
Apollo leaned over her bed. His hand stilled at her cheek, or was it her neck? Was he about to choke her?
For a second, terror paralyzed her. Then she scrambled to her knees. She needed to get away.
“Don’t be scared—I’m not going to hurt you, Evangeline.” He said her name like a plea as he placed one knee on the bed, followed by the other, until he was kneeling before her. His eyes were liquid brown, not red. She knew how quickly his gaze could change, but right now he looked so haunted, so alone, so desperate, so wounded.
It felt a little like looking in a mirror and seeing her own emotions reflected back.
She knew she needed to run from him, but she didn’t want to hurt him more than he was already hurting.
Carefully, he cupped her cheek. She stilled, but she didn’t pull away. He kept his word. He didn’t hurt her. If anything, his touch dulled some of her pain.
He stroked her jaw.
His hand was warm and gentle. Although there was a slight tremble to his fingers, as if he was frightened, too.
The touch still felt good, but maybe it wasn’t a wise idea, after all. “Apollo—this isn’t safe.”