Баллада о проклятой любви

„..So why don’t you go be a good little key and lock yourself safely inside of your suite”

“Whatever it is, Jacks, you won’t feel the same in a minute.”
He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw. “You have no idea what I’m feeling now.”
He looked at her lips, and the most tortured expression she’d ever seen crossed his face.
When Jacks wanted something, it was with an intensity that could break worlds and build kingdoms. That was the energy pouring off him now, as if he wanted to destroy her and make her his queen all at once.

Evangeline’s heart was still racing, and she wondered now if it wasn’t scared or nervous but if it was just trying to catch up to all the moments before they disappeared—before he disappeared. She knew it would happen; it always did, Jacks always left, which made this even more foolish, and yet right now, she didn’t want to be smart. She just wanted to be his.
She meant to say, For tonight, I’m yours, but all that came out was “I’m yours.”

Everything between them felt as fragile as a raindrop that would cease to exist when it touched the ground. But the Hollow also felt like the sort of place where raindrops never touched the ground.

I’ll give you a choice. Dance with me, or watch me use one of my swords to chop off his head.
Evangeline gritted her teeth and glared up at him. “Is this how you always get dance partners? By threatening to kill the other suitors?”
“Don’t test me tonight, Little Fox.”

Jacks wasn’t what she wanted. Evangeline wanted to give love and be loved and feel love at just the sight of someone. She wanted butterflies and kisses. She wanted it so much that sometimes she thought her heart would burst from it. And sometimes she made mistakes, like tonight when she’d let Jacks touch her. But she would not let him touch her again.

He watched her the way you weren’t supposed to watch someone when they knew that you were looking—bold and unabashed and utterly inappropriate.

Evangeline bit down on her lip, just to taunt him back.
Something primal flashed behind Jacks’s eyes—desire or anger, she couldn’t quite tell. All she knew was that her mouth felt swollen from the force of his gaze and the inescapable sense that he wished to be the one biting down on her lip instead

“You think about what I do when you’re not around?”
“Careful, Little Fox.” He took a step forward. “You sound rather excited by the idea.”

“Where were you?” she asked.
“I was killing innocent maidens and kicking puppies.”
“Jacks, that’s not funny.”