Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“Thu mi le d’chal lei fhuil, ima sangfluir,”
he murmurs.
Which is fae for,
You drive me mad with your beauty, my blood blossom.
And since I’m dangerously close to getting sidetracked by how unfairly gorgeous they are, I choose to be impish.
“Nach, ás mo esio chial na’mi cobhair,” I reply smoothly in fae.
No, you are mad enough without my help.
His head rears back in surprise. “How do you?—“
“Attention, everyone!”
The music softens to silence as Professor Gibbons climbs the first few stairs on the massive staircase, turning with a bright smile as a mage light settles around him like a spotlight. Using magic to amplify his voice, he addresses everyone present.
“Welcome one and all to Everbound University’s prestigious Matched Ball! As you know, there have been some significant changes to our schedule going forward, which the Immortal Quintet wishes to reiterate. So, without further ado, let us welcome Iker Del Mar, Somnus DeLune, and the effervescent Natalya Genovese!”
Everyone applauds as he retreats. From opposite sides of the split staircase, those three members of the Immortal Quintet enter the room.
And unlike legacies, who look mostly human, these are clearly monsters.
Descending from the left staircase is Iker Del Mar, the immortal hydra shifter. His skin is a deep, mottled pattern of grays and greens broken up by clusters of scales. Several horns protrude back from the dark hair of his head, and his eyes are a pale yellow with snake-like slits for pupils. He wears an outfit that would have been tasteful a hundred years ago but somehow looks equally sharp now.
And on the opposite staircase, Somnus DeLune enters.
Crypt’s father.
My eyes can’t help seeking similarities between this suited monster and his mysteriously absent incubus son. His hair is dark, his face just as strikingly handsome, and they’re similar heights—but that’s where the similarities end. Instead of Crypt’s vibrant, silver-flecked purple eyes, Somnus’s are a beady black. Leathery, bat-like wings riddled with ragged holes extend from his back in mangled arches. A barbed tail whips back and forth behind him, and his sharp fangs gleam when he sneers down at the legacies below.
I admit, they’re an impressive sight.
But the most impressive of all is their keeper, Natalya.
Her foreboding presence fills the room as she descends behind Iker Del Mar, dressed in a nude gown that clings to her curvaceous body and glitters with thousands of teardrop-shaped diamonds. Natalya’s cinnamon-colored hair is styled perfectly, and though her blue eyes aren’t glowing now, I know they will if she uses her psychic abilities—a trait of the original vampyr. Though she looks less monstrous than the other two, she is the last survivor of the psychic vampyrs, who led all of monsterkind in the revolution to escape their dark ruler in the Nether many hundreds of years ago.
And like a crown of runes etched into her forehead are all four of the keeper emblems. A line for Arcana, a circle for Shifting, a triangle for Craving, and a square for Elemental.
Those emblems manifest on keepers once their hearts have been bound to the members of their quintet. It’s a symbol of unity—though they don’t always manifest on the forehead in the vague shape of a crown as Natalya’s did.
All three of the monsters scan the legacies below as if they expect to see one of us covered in their mage’s dried blood, blatantly guilty for them to execute on the spot. But finally, Iker Del Mar’s voice booms across the room, needing no magic amplification. His forked tongue flicks out on occasion as he speaks bluntly.
“Heirs of the Four Houses, your next semester starts effective tomorrow morning. The no-killing ban for legacies matched into quintets has been officially lifted.”
Whispers fill the room as fresh tension vibrates through the air. From the corner of my eye, I see sneers and smirks pass between many of the matched quintets. Many of them move to better surround their keepers.
Silas and Baelfire also move to either side of me. Baelfire skims the crowd with a scowl on his ordinarily cheerful face. Silas looks one wrong look away from another psychotic break. He withdraws his bleeding crystal, twisting it restlessly between his long fingers.
Del Mar continues as if he doesn’t notice the heightened tension. “All matched quintets, complete or not, must report their chosen emphasis to Professor Gibbons before the conclusion of this dance. Classes shall begin tomorrow morning. All students will arrive at their courses promptly and obey curfew. Anyone caught skipping classes or wandering the halls outside of designated hours shall be dealt with by me personally.”
That makes another hush fall over the Matched Ball as the other students seem to catch on to what’s happening. Typically, quintets have weeks to pick their classes, and Everbound is lenient with legacies—but not now. Now, we’re being highly monitored by the Immortal Quintet themselves.
Watched. Studied. Vetted.
If I want to retain the element of surprise, I’ll need to keep pretending to be an untalented wallflower. They can’t know that I’m the telum whispered about in the underbelly of the legacy world.
“Several prophets and healers from Galene’s nearby temple have arrived at Everbound to assist in the infirmary, which will no doubt fill quickly as quintet rankings unfold,” the hydra shifter goes on, his pale yellow gaze flicking from student to student. “We look forward to observing you just as we observed your ancestors prove themselves worthy legacies. Be fierce and remember that weak legacies will only be a liability to our kind. Weed out the weak and bring honor to the Four Houses, be it in life or death.”
The Immortal Quintet descends to join everyone else on the ballroom floor. Somnus and Iker flank both sides of Natalya as she sweeps toward the bar, the crowd of legacies parting effortlessly for her glittering form.
I track their movements. If they’re mourning the loss of their mage, all three of them are excellent at hiding it. They look as if they own the world and everyone in it—the perfect picture of the ideal quintet.
I wonder which one I’ll decide to kill first.
MAVEN
I look away from the immortal monsters and find that Silas and Baelfire have returned to consuming me with their eyes. Once again, it’s inconvenient how much I enjoy that they obviously like what they see.
I’ve never had much reason to care about the way I look. Survival always came first. I didn’t even see my own reflection until I was ten years old and caught a glimpse of what I looked like in a murky forest pond…right before someone tried to drown me in it.
All this to say, it’s nice to feel pretty.
But I’m still determined to get over these gorgeous assholes, so I step backward to get out from between them—but cool hands gently grasp my bare shoulders from behind.
“Watch where you’re going, Oakley,” Everett says, his quiet voice almost lost to the music that has resumed.
I step away from the white-haired professor—though right now, he’s not dressed like a professor at all. He’s in a sharp, perfectly tailored dark blue suit that would make any fashion photographer cry tears of joy.
What a shame that someone so beautiful is an asshole.
The last time we spoke, he hurt me on purpose. I realize that now. He was intentionally hostile, pushing me away and trying to make me hate him and the others.
And it worked. It stings, knowing they made a game out of fucking me.
I’m prepared to meet his cold, aloof stare, but when our gazes clash, I frown. It’s difficult to make out in this lighting, but…is he blushing as his gaze sweeps over me?
“Get lost, Snowflake,” Baelfire growls, moving to my side again as he glowers at the elemental. “I’m about to dance with my mate, and I don’t need you fucking this up, too.”
Anyone who expects me to dance is fucking delusional. I’ve never danced a day in my life. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.
Everett adjusts his cufflinks. Three times. “Believe me, I don’t plan on sticking around. But all five of us need to pick an emphasis for me to report to Gibbons.” He pauses. “Where’s Crypt?”
“Probably avoiding Daddy Dearest,” Baelfire grunts.
That piques my interest enough that I tip my head. “Is Crypt scared of Somnus?”
He snorts. “Nah, that psychopath doesn’t feel anything. He should be scared of Somnus, but instead, he riles him up if they’re ever around each other. It’s a huge pain in the ass—gets other people killed most of the time. The Legacy Council tried to enforce a restraining order to keep them out of the same room, but that didn’t do shit.”
I absorb that as I glance absentmindedly at Everett. Immediately, he looks down to fix his cufflinks again, obviously to avoid meeting my gaze. He wants nothing to do with me, and that sends another inexplicable pang of hurt through my hollow chest.
I force myself to shove down any emotion and focus on what’s important.
“Tell Gibbons that our quintet emphasis will be combat.”
They all stare at me. Silas looks like he wants to pry my head open and read my thoughts.
“
Our quintet emphasis?” he says slowly.
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.