Extraits

She hoped a little harder. She wanted to ask him to look at her, but all that mattered was that he didn’t let her go.

“I used to wonder if fate was real,” she said gently. “I used to fear it meant that I had no real choices. Then I secretly hoped fate was real and that you and I were fated, that by some miraculous chance I was your true love. But now I don’t care if fate is real—because I don’t need it to decide for me. I don’t need it to make this choice. I’ve made my decision, Jacks. It’s you. It will always be you, until the end of time. And I’ll fight fate or anyone else who tries to tear us apart—including you . You are my choice. You are my love. You are mine. And you are not going to be the end of me, Jacks.”

“I think I already am.” He opened his eyes and they dripped red tears. “Let me go, Evangeline.”

“Tell me you won’t set fire to your heart, and I will let you go.”

“Don’t ask me to do that.”

“Then don’t ask me to let you go!”

His eyes bled more tears, but his hand held tight to the jar. “I’m broken. I like to break things. Sometimes I want to break you.”

“Then break me, Jacks.”

I am a murderer. I enjoy hurting people. I like blood. I like pain. I am a monster, but whether you remember it or not, I'm your monster, Evangeline.

Jacks idly stroked her jaw with his fingers. “I love you,” he said simply. Then his face went abruptly serious. “I’m never going to let you out of my sight.”

Evangeline closed her eyes and then she kissed him.

It was a kiss like a prayer, quiet, almost pleading, made of tremulous lips and nervous fingers. It felt like reaching out in the dark, hoping to find a light.

Jacks’s lips were slightly sweet and metallic, like apples and bloody tears as he whispered against her mouth, “You shouldn’t have done that, Little Fox.”

“It’s too late now.” She wrapped her hands around his neck, drawing him closer as she parted her lips. Slowly the tip of Jacks’s tongue slipped inside.

It was a gentler kiss than she would have imagined. Less of a fever dream and more of a secret, a whispered dangerous thing that might escape if he was too reckless. His hands were careful as they moved to her jacket. One by one, with gentle flicks of his fingers, Jacks undid the buttons.

Evangeline’s legs forgot how to work and her lungs forgot how to breathe as he slid off the jacket and let it fall to the ground.

She’d been wrong before. Her life hadn’t been full of moments leading to the Valory Arch. Every moment of everything had brought her to this place. It had taken all the heartbreak, all the almost love and the wrong love, to know that this love was true love.

Glass shattered. He’d dropped the jar—and as soon as he did, the kiss took on new life. It felt like stars colliding and worlds ending. Everything was dizzying and spinning. He kissed her harder. She held him tighter, fingers bruising on the back of his neck before slipping into his soft hair.

Evangeline never wanted to pull away. But she was starting to feel light-headed. Her eyes were closed. But she could see stars.

From that first day in his church, Jacks had wanted to watch her. He wanted to know what her voice sounded like, what her skin felt like. He’d followed her, listened to her prayer—hated her prayer. It had been one of the most god-awful prayers he’d ever heard. And yet even then he hadn’t been able to walk away. He wanted a piece of her. To keep her. To use her for later.

At least that’s what he’d told himself.

She was only a key.

A human.

She wasn’t an obsession.

She wasn’t his.

He brought a black apple to his mouth and took a wide, sharp bite.

Crunch.

Evangeline jolted at the sound and gripped the edge of her sheets.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of apples.”

“I’m not afraid of apples. That’s ridiculous.”

But she was lying.

The curse really did hope the two of them would find happily ever after. It wasn't entirely sure if the not-quite-human-boy deserved it, but the girl with the rose-gold hair definitely did.

For anyone who's ever hoped for a second chance.

"This is a very bad idea," Jack murmured.

"I would have thought you liked bad ideas."

"Only when they're mine."

Being yours does not make you mine.