Page 38 of A Curse for True Love (Once Upon a Broken Heart)

“I will not let you die.” A single bead of water dripped from his lashes onto her lips. It was raindrop soft, but the look in his eyes held the force of a storm. It should have been too dark to see his expression, but the crescent moon burned brighter with each second, lining the edges of his cheekbones as he looked at her.

Evangeline’s entire world tilted as she recognized his face as Archer’s.

The crashing ocean felt suddenly quiet in contrast to her pounding heart, or maybe it was his heart.

Archer’s chest was heaving, his clothes were soaked, his hair was a mess across his face—yet in that moment, Evangeline knew he would carry her through more than just freezing waters. He would pull her through fire if he had to, haul her from the clutches of war, from falling cities and breaking worlds.

Evangeline’s mind spun as the memory ended. Days ago, when she’d glimpsed the last part of this memory, she’d thought the person who’d been carrying her was Apollo.

But she had been wrong. It had been Archer.

The day at the well had not been the first time he’d met her. She also doubted this new memory was of their first encounter. He’d held her with too much intensity.

As Evangeline’s senses returned to the present, the first thing she noticed was that Archer had crossed the bedroom. He was standing at the door and he wasn’t looking at her the same way he had in the memory, as if he’d walk through fire to save her. The hand she’d been touching was fisted at his side and he looked at her as if he wanted nothing more than to get away.

And she wanted nothing more than for him to stay.

She had so many questions, and not just about this new memory. She thought about how she’d reacted when Madame Voss had mentionedThe Ballad of the Archer and the Fox.She’d thought the story had triggered her, but now she knew it was just the name.Archer.

It was him.

“I’ll make sure the guards clean this up and keep it quiet. But in case anyone asks, tell them thatyoukilled the man who attacked you.”

Archer turned to go.

“Wait!” Evangeline called. “Don’t leave!”

He didn’t stop.

He was already out of the room.

But this time she chased after him.

19Apollo

Apollo’s boots were going to be ruined. There was so much blood. Blood stained the carpets, the walls, and now his boots. Not that he was actually mad about the boots. Apollo could easily get more boots—he didn’t care about his footwear, not really. What truly bothered him was that his wife had been carrying around a dagger that had once belonged to Jacks.

Apollo would have loved to have gone out and hunted the bastard that very night, but he had to deal with this mess instead.

“You said there was one survivor?” he asked.

“Yes, Your Highness,” replied the guard assigned to this particular scene.

“I’d like to speak with him privately.” Apollo marched out into the hall, stepping in more blood as he moved. He’d seen death before, but it had never been this grisly.

Down the hall, he heard another guard heaving into a pot.

Apollo was thankful he hadn’t had the time to eat before arriving, or he would have done the same.

Upstairs the mood was grim, but at least the air no longer held the coppery scent of blood.

It smelled of beeswax candles. Their soft light cast a glow over the flowery paper covering the walls. There were also a number of framed watercolor paintings and pencil sketches. Someone in the family must have been an artist, for none of the paintings were that good at first. But as he ventured farther down the hall, the art grew quite a bit better. Some of the sketches appeared to be faithful renderings of the family members who now lay strewn dead across the floor downstairs.

Finally the guard stopped in front of the door that must have led to the massacre’s sole survivor.

“I’ll enter alone,” said Apollo.

“But, Your Highness—”

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