Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
You’ll lose her. It’s for the best.
The taunting echoes in my skull reach a crescendo until I grip the sides of my head, snapping, “Shut up.”
When a low whistle breaks through, and the voices slink back into the corners of my mind, I blink my eyes open. I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here out of my mind, but Baelfire stands in front of me with his arms folded and his eyebrows drawn down.
“Your curse has you fucked up more than usual. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but should I be worried? What are the actual odds that your sanity will last through the upcoming semester, Si?”
It likely won’t, a fact of which I am painfully aware.
I ignore him and his asinine concern, grimacing at the ache lingering in my temples as I make my way to the cabinet in the kitchen where I stored the good liquor. It won’t stop the voices, but I don’t care right now. I just need something to dull this before I lose control of myself and try to kill the dragon shifter again.
Baelfire is quiet as he watches me pour a glass of whiskey, but then he glances longingly at the front door. “Think she’ll still go to the Matched Ball with us? I mean…it’s mandatory, right?”
“I doubt it very much. She hates us,” I remind him.
The dragon shifter huffs. “For now. She hates us for now. But we were making solid progress with her before Everett went all Frost on us and ruined it. Call me a fucking optimist, but I say if we ignore that stupid bet like it never happened and work on earning her trust, she’ll finally start to open up to us. And once we all get our heads out of our asses, I think she’ll love being our keeper.”
“Fucking optimist.”
He smirks, reaching into his pocket before tossing my red-stained bleeding crystal to me. “You’re not gonna like this next part, but if we want Maven to start trusting us with all the secrets she’s keeping in that pretty head of hers, we need to make the first move.”
“Meaning?”
“Trust is a two-way street. Maybe we should all tell her what our curses are. Who knows? Maybe we’ll start to trust each other more, too.” He makes a face. “Except Everett. Fuck that guy.”
I nod in agreement to the last part but carefully consider the rest of his words.
I don’t give my trust away to anyone. Even when I was younger, my parents and their quintet taught me to fend for myself first and foremost. We all kept secrets from each other. I doubt they knew one another’s curses before they were bound together to break them—speaking about individual curses is a taboo in the world of legacies, even among matched quintets.
But whether I like it or not, Crypt and Baelfire both already know my curse. I know so little about Maven that I can’t possibly trust her yet in all the ways I want to, but her learning the state of my mental health wouldn’t be the end of the world.
However, Baelfire’s suggestion about forgetting our little wager entirely isn’t an option. I’ll need to get those dragon scales.
But first, I need to find a way to show Maven exactly how sorry I am.
MAVEN
After I knock, the door creaks open, and poor little Vivienne bursts into tears at the sight of me. She reaches out like she wants a shoulder to cry on, but panic shoots through me at the incoming touch.
Instead, I grasp her arms through her long sleeves and put on the softest smile I can muster.
“Can I come in?”
“K—Kenzie is m—missing,” she hiccups, shaking her head hard. “We’ve l—looked everywhere, and I don’t know if she’s even still…”
She can’t finish the thought and begins sobbing again, the tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping freely.
Fuck.
I’m awful at comforting crying people.
I blame it on my upbringing since showing any significant amount of emotion around others was an invitation to get beaten to a pulp and fed to nightmarish creatures. Someone shedding tears out in the open is an entirely foreign concept to me.
It’s unbearably awkward for a moment as I let her go of her arms and glance behind her through the doorway. Morning sunlight shines through the windows in Kenzie’s apartment, lighting everything with a warm glow.
“Is…anyone else here?”
Preferably someone whose face isn’t leaking.
Dirk hears me with his shifter hearing and comes to the door. He’s in just as bad shape as Vivienne, but he’s not crying hysterically. Thank the universe for that. He invites me in, and I enter their shared living and dining room area.
For a moment, I’m surprised that I don’t feel Crypt follow behind me—he’s been trailing me ever since I left their quintet apartment fifteen minutes ago. But then I notice the dreamcatcher dangling beside the front door of Kenzie’s apartment. There’s another one beside the large window in their dining room.
“Kenzie hung up a bunch of those right after she met your, uh…DeLune,” Dirk says, scratching at his neck. Then his face crumbles. “Please—you’re her best friend. Do you have any idea where she is? We’ve looked everywhere.
Everywhere.
She just vanished without a trace and…”
His eyes grow moist, his cheeks ruddy. Oh, gods. If I don’t start talking, he’ll start crying, too.
It’s like a fucking pandemic that I am entirely unequipped to handle.
“I can find out what happened to her,” I say quickly. “I just need some of her DNA.”
Vivienne’s face lights up with hope, and she hurries into one of their other rooms, leaving Dirk and me alone. For a long moment, we’re both silent. Possibly because I’ve barely gotten to know Kenzie’s quintet since I didn’t want them to think of me as a friend.
I already care about Kenzie more than I’m comfortable with. I’m not about to start doing friends, plural.
My eyes stray to the many erotic paintings hanging up in their living room. Kenzie’s works. I’ve seen them before, but my attention lingers on an abstract water painting of a woman sandwiched between two masculine figures, her head thrown back in ecstasy and her hair swirling around them. It’s a beautifully sensual painting, but I have to jerk my attention away when I realize I’m envisioning myself in that painting.
Between any combination of four particular gorgeous legacies…
Who I should not be thinking about like this ever again.
My face feels too warm as I subtly examine several other paintings. There’s so much variety, so many positions I’ve never considered.
Because survival was my number one priority in the hellscape I called home, I kept any sexual urges under lock and key after I hit puberty. Except for the time five years ago when I let my curiosity get the best of me and decided to lose my virginity. But that experience hadn’t been beautiful or erotic like these paintings. Instead, it led to the worst memory of my entire life, which then led to me becoming…well, this.
After that, I’d forced myself to become more of a thing than a person. Any urges or emotions were kept deeply hidden. It was safer that way for everyone.
It’s still safer that way. You can’t have them, and they never actually wanted you anyway, I remind myself.
And yet, my eyes keep straying to those damn paintings. Especially the one with a woman sucking off an abstract array of cocks. I’ve never had a cock in my mouth. The basic concept behind it doesn’t sound enjoyable, but…is it?
Maybe I should find out. After all, I thoroughly enjoyed my first orgasms. I definitely want more of those. Who knows what other sexual experiences I might enjoy?
Bad Maven. Your purpose has nothing to do with enjoying things. Focus.
Finally, I shoot Dirk a sideways glance, needing to distract myself from my thoughts. He’s frowning after Vivienne, still roughly scratching at his neck. And his arm.
Does he have fleas or something? He’s a shifter, after all.
When he catches me looking, he stops and grimaces. “Uh…curses, am I right?”
Oh. Right.
I have no idea what Kenzie’s matches are cursed with, but I’m surprised Dirk had the guts to mention it. Most legacies are extremely hush-hush about how the Legacy Curse affects them. But if his curse is itching all the time, that seems kind of mild.
I change the topic for his sake. “Did Luka leave you two to fend for yourselves? His jackassery must be chronic.”
Dirk shakes his head, scratching one of his palms. “No, he just went to get food from the dining hall since we didn’t have anything here during the lockdown yesterday. Actually, he’s been the one holding us together ever since we realized Kenzie was…”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.