Jacks had always considered himself more of a sadist than a masochist. He enjoyed inflicting pain, not receiving it. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave the shadows of Evangeline’s bedroom.
It wasn’t an obsession.
One visit wasn’t an obsession.
Jacks just needed to make sure she was still alive. That she wasn’t bleeding. In danger. Unhappy. Cold. She was safe in her bed. She’d be even safer when he left her. But he was too selfish to leave just yet.
He leaned against the bedpost and watched as she slept. He’d never understood why someone would watch another person sleep . . . until her.
Castor did it. He said it was how he helped manage his urges. It did the opposite for Jacks.
The dying fire smoldered in the hearth. He considered setting the room ablaze just so that he’d have a reason to pick her up and carry her out, to save her one last time, before he left her for good.
Of course it wouldn’t really be saving her if he was the one who put her in danger by starting a fire.
“Wake up, Princess.” Jacks tossed a leather vest at her sleeping form.
Evangeline squinted and rubbed her tired eyes as she pulled the garment away. She hadn’t clearly seen him yet. But in the past, she wouldn’t have
had to see him. She would have known his voice or sensed his presence even before he spoke, and he’d have seen her body react. Her cheeks would have gone red or she might have shivered and then pretended that there was a draft. That it wasn’t him.
She was better off not knowing him. But he was enough of a bastard to hate that she’d forgotten.
Even if it was his fault she’d lost her memories.
This is not a small mistake to fix. If you do this, Time will take someone else equally valuable from you, Honora had said.
Jacks had thought Time would take something from him. He hadn’t thought it would take it from her.
Evangeline’s lost memories seemed like an inconsequential price to pay when compared to her life. But even though she was alive again, Jacks would never forget seeing her die, feeling her go lifeless in his arms. It made him realize how fragile she really was. He thought she’d be safer in the castle with Apollo—and she would be, once Jacks got what he needed. Then he could leave her for good.
“Can you move any faster?” he drawled, tossing another garment. “I don’t really feel like waiting all day.”
She pulled away the shirt he’d just thrown and attempted a scowl as she mumbled, “It’s still dark outside.”
“Exactly.” Jacks threw the last of the clothes at her. “Will you stop that!”
“Will you finally get dressed?”
She shoved all the clothes from her face. He watched her bemused expression as her eyes fought to adjust. She still looked half asleep. Her eyes were bleary and tired. And he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
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. He could see the pulse jump in her neck. He’d frightened her, which was good. She should be scared of him.
But it seemed Evangeline still didn’t have a sense of self-preservation. She had fully woken up now, but she didn’t call for her guards or take up a defensive posture. Instead, her eyes went wide. And for a second it was painfully clear just how much she had forgotten, because she looked at him as if he could do no wrong.
“It’s you,” she breathed. “You saved my life.”
“If you want to thank me, hurry up and get dressed.”
She flinched a little at the bite in his voice. He knew he was being a bastard again, but by the end of this, it would hurt her more if he was kind.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“You need to learn how to defend yourself against the next person who tries to kill you,” he said brusquely.
She eyed him skeptically. “You’re an instructor?”
He shoved away from the bedpost before she could look too closely at him. “I’ll give you five minutes. Then dressed or not, we start.”
“Wait!” Evangeline called. “What’s your name?”
You already know, Little Fox.
But once again, his thoughts weren’t projected loudly enough for her to hear.
Instead, he gave her the name he’d planned on. He knew she wouldn’t remember it, and he needed to make sure he didn’t forget it. “You can call me Archer.”
