Page 2 of A Curse for True Love (Once Upon a Broken Heart)

“Who ishe?”

“The villain who erased all of your memories.” Apollo took Evangeline’s hand, holding her firmly as he quickly led her from the room with the door and the warrior angels.

Grainy late-morning light lit shelves of manuscripts tied up with ribbons and tassels. It appeared they were in an ancient library, although the books looked newer the farther they ventured.

Floors changed from dusty stone to gleaming marble, ceilings grew taller, the light became sharper, manuscripts turned into leather-bound volumes. Evangeline once again tried to search for something familiar in the late-morning glow. Something that might make her remember. Her head was clearer now, but nothing was familiar.

She was truly elsewhere, and it seemed she had been for long enough to meet heroes and villains, and to find herself in a battle between them.

“Who was he?” she pressed. “The one who stole my memories?”

Apollo’s steps faltered. Then they picked up faster than before. “I promise I will tell you everything, but we should get out of here—”

“Oh my!” someone exclaimed.

Evangeline turned to see a woman in white robes standing between the shelves of books. The woman—some kind of a librarian, Evangeline supposed—brought a hand to her mouth as she stared. Her expression was one of awe, eyes wide and unwavering as they latched on to Apollo.

Another librarian strode into the hall. This one gasped, then promptly fainted, dropping a stack of books as the first librarian yelled, “It’s a miracle!”

More librarians and scholars came forward, all crying out similar exclamations.

Evangeline curled toward Apollo as they were quickly surrounded. First by the librarians, then by servants and courtiers. Finally, by wide-chested guards in shining armor who rushed in, no doubt drawn by all of the clamor.

The room they were in was at least four stories tall, but suddenly it felt small and suffocating as more and more unfamiliar people closed in on them.

“He’s back…”

“He’s alive…”

“It’s a miracle!” they all repeated, voices turning reverent as tears began to glisten down cheeks.

Evangeline didn’t know what was happening. She felt as ifshe were witnessing the sort of thing that usually took place in a church. Was it possible she had married a saint?

Looking up at Apollo, she tried to remember his surname.Acadian,that was what he’d told her. She couldn’t recall a single story about an Apollo Acadian, but clearly there were stories. Upon meeting him, she’d imagined he was some kind of hero, but the crowd looked at him as if he was even more.

“Who are you?” Evangeline whispered.

Apollo brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles that made her shiver. “I am the one who will never let anyone harm you again.”

A few nearby people sighed as they overheard the words.

Then Apollo raised his free hand toward the rumbling crowd in a gesture that universally meantquiet.

Those gathered immediately fell into a hush. Some even dropped to their knees.

It was uncanny to see so many people fall quiet so quickly—they didn’t even seem to breathe as Apollo’s voice rang out over their heads.

“I can see that some of you are having a difficult time believing your eyes. But what you’re seeing is real. I’m alive. When you leave this room, tell everyone you see that Prince Apollo died and then went through hell to get back here.”

Prince.Evangeline barely had time to process the word and everything that came with it—for almost as soon as Apollo spoke, he released Evangeline’s hand and swiftly took off his velvet doublet, followed by his linen shirt.

Several of those gathered gasped, including Evangeline.

Apollo’s chest was flawless, smooth and carved in muscles, and over his heart was a vibrant tattoo of two swords in the shape of a heart with a name in the center:Evangeline.

Until that moment, everything had felt a bit like a fever dream she might have woken up from. But her name on his chest felt permanent in a way that Apollo’s words had not. He wasn’t a stranger. He knew her intimately enough to mark her name across his heart.

He turned around then, showing off another sight that stunned not only her, but the entire crowd. Apollo’s beautiful, proud, straight back was covered in a web of violent scars.

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