Finale (Caraval 3)

Tella choked on a laugh. “Jacks and I aren’t together. I hate Jacks.” But the words definitely didn’t taste as true as they should have.

Mistress Luck could clearly tell from her response. “Don’t humans usually avoid things they hate?”

“Sometimes Jacks is a necessary evil.”

“Then make him unnecessary.” Mistress Luck gripped Tella’s arm as her cheery voice turned into something harsh. “Your relationship with the Prince of Hearts will end in catastrophe.”

“I already told you, we don’t have a relationship.” Tella tried to pull free, but the Fate’s grip was inhumanly strong.

“You’re in denial. If you weren’t drawn to him, you wouldn’t be here.”

Tella tried to object, but the Fate just kept talking. “You’re the human girl who made Jacks’s heart beat again. There are whispers you’re his one true love. But that doesn’t mean what you think it does. Immortals cannot love. Love is not one of our emotions.”

“Then it shouldn’t matter if I’m Jacks’s true love,” Tella said.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Mistress Luck squeezed Tella’s arm a little harder. “When we’re attracted to humans, we only feel obsession, fixation, lust, possession. But on very rare occasions, we come across humans who tempt us to love. But it always ends badly. Love is poison to us. Love and immortality cannot coexist. If an immortal feels true love for even a minute, they become human for that minute. If the feeling lasts too long, their mortality becomes permanent. And most immortals would kill the object of their affection rather than become human. It’s not safe to tempt an immortal to love. And if Jacks doesn’t kill you because he’s tempted to love you, then I promise his obsession with you will destroy you.”

A hush fell over the den at her words, as if the entire room had just been dealt a bad hand.

“If you have any intelligence, you’ll turn and walk away now.” The Fate finally released Tella’s arm, and then she drifted back through the sea of gamblers, claps and cheers following her as she moved.

Tella tried to shake off the feel of her grip. But she couldn’t shake off her words.

Love and immortality cannot coexist.

We only feel obsession, fixation, lust, possession.

If an immortal feels love for even a minute, they become human for that minute. If the feeling lasts too long, their mortality becomes permanent. And most immortals would kill the object of their affection rather than become human.

Now Tella knew what an immortal’s one weakness was. Love. To kill the Fallen Star, they would need to make him fall in love. But he was definitely the sort who would murder a human before loving them.

A sharp ache panged beneath her breastbone, right around her hea

rt. But the hurt went far deeper than that. This was not the weakness Tella would have imagined. But now she understood why Legend hadn’t wanted her to know about it: Legend didn’t love her, and he never would love her, not as long as he wanted to remain immortal.

“You look as if you’re in pain again,” Jacks drawled.

Tella spun around, her heart racing at the sound of his voice.

Tonight the Prince of Hearts was dressed like a debauched ringmaster, in a deep burgundy coat with a popped collar and ripped-off sleeves that revealed the black-and-white shirt beneath, which had been carelessly left unbuttoned. His white cravat hung untied around his neck, and his black pants were only half tucked into his scuffed boots.

He was the exact opposite of Legend. Legend always looked as if he could walk away from the apocalypse unscathed, while Jacks always seemed as if he’d just come from a fight—all wild, almost violently reckless in his appearance. And yet because he was a Fate, Jacks still managed to be almost painfully attractive.

“Here to see if I can make you feel better?” He sank his teeth into the corner of his mouth, drawing one sparkling bead of gold-red blood. “I’m happy to help you out again.”

Tella’s belly dipped and her cheeks flushed with heat. “That’s not what I want.”

“Are you sure about that? You definitely look as if you want something.” He laughed as he flicked out his tongue to catch the blood at the corner of his mouth. Still chuckling, he sauntered off toward a nearby roulette table.

“Wait.” Tella stormed after him. “I need to talk to you.”

“I’d rather gamble.” He grabbed the knob in the center of the already spinning black-and-red wheel and gave it another whirl, making it turn faster as the people at the table grumbled. “Place a bet and then we’ll talk.”

“Fine.” Tella pulled out a handful of coins.

“Not that sort of bet, my love.” His silver-blue eyes sparked, taunting and daring, along with something else she couldn’t place fast enough. “I think we can make this a little more interesting.”

“How?”