Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
This time, it does growl. Scarlet magic flares in Silas’s hands as he prepares for a worst-case scenario, but I just lift my chin, staring it down.
The voices are getting closer, and when Everett looks over and swears something about the Immortal Quintet, I know we’re about to have company of the monster variety.
I arch a brow, deciding to use words that Baelfire’s dragon will probably understand better. “My mate. Give him back.
Now.”
The dragon’s wings flex, and somehow, it looks incredibly pleased with the endearment. A moment later, the massive beast shrinks and morphs, muscles condensing and bones rearranging until suddenly, Baelfire slumps against me with a violent shudder.
Oh, fuck. He’s heavy.
I suppose it only makes sense with all that muscle.
Silas shoves the shifter off of me with his good arm. Baelfire is disoriented—and very, very naked—as he straightens to get his bearings. His golden skin is beaded with sweat. When his attention finally lands on me, his eyes flare wide in panic.
“Fuck.
Fuck. Did I hurt you, baby?” His frantic voice is like gravel.
“Not me.” I look pointedly at Silas’s seared arm. It looks painful, so I’m not surprised when he pulls out his crystal and pricks his hand to begin a healing spell on himself. “You put on quite the show.”
Baelfire’s expression turns mournful as he looks down at the big lump of charcoal that used to be Chase. He glances behind us at all the legacies standing a far distance off, glaring. Water elementals are working together to put out the fires, casters are trying to heal their burnt friends or matches, and sure enough, Iker Del Mar and a few of his older legacy hirelings are crossing the field toward us.
I admit, the hydra shifter has a decent long-distance glare.
“Shit,” Baelfire mumbles.
He turns back to me, not at all focused on the fact that he’s completely nude. I wish I could say the same for myself. It’s taking significant effort not to glance down at his cock.
Baelfire grimaces. “Guess you’ve seen my dark side now. Sorry.”
He’s apologizing? Clearly, I’m doing a great job of hiding my newfound love for dragons…and naked dragon shifters.
Focus on his face. No looking down.
I allow my smile to come back. “Don’t be. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”
His face lights up. “I love your smile. I’d kill to see it more.”
“You just did,” I point out.
Bael ducks his head, rubbing his face. “Yeah…not proud of that. But at least that took the edge off my curse. I can finally think straight for the first time in days. Thank the fucking gods.”
“Must be nice,” Silas drawls bitterly, twisting his arm to heal his bicep.
“Decimus,” Iker Del Mar booms as he stops a few yards away. His pale yellow eyes are trained hard and fast on my match, and his forked tongue flicks out repeatedly like an angry twitch. “You will come with me.”
The image of all those dead fae in the hallway comes back to me, and I step forward without thinking, ignoring Everett’s hissed protest.
“We still have combat training. You made it clear we’re not to skip classes.”
He doesn’t bother sparing me a glance. “Your match will be back in time for training.”
All the combat-emphasis legacies who previously ran from Baelfire’s outburst are warily trickling back into the field, their curious eyes darting between our quintet and the immortal shifter. Brooks and his matches are nearby, and he sneers at me, drawing a line across his neck.
Seriously. When will people come up with a more original threat?
“Well?” Del Mar demands impatiently, baring his sharp teeth at Bael.
Baelfire glances at me one more time with lingering worry but follows the hydra and his legacy escorts off the scorched field.
MAVEN
Moments after Baelfire disappears into Everbound Castle with Del Mar and the others, Coach Gallagher storms outside, surveying the still-smoking field with distaste as he approaches. The other legacies have regrouped, though some of them have some burns. Plenty of them are giving my quintet dirty looks.
The coach stops and glares directly at me, opening his mouth. He’s an easy one to read, so I’m anticipating he’ll make some histrionic statement about atypical casters being unable to lead highly-ranked legacies.
But then he sees the frigid stare Everett is cutting him and apparently thinks better of it.
Turning to all the other legacies, he snaps, “Training will begin in fifteen minutes, burns or no burns, so get yourselves patched up and prepare for one-on-one quintet combat.”
I glance at Everett, noting that his ear is still bleeding.
“Hold still,” I tell him, slipping off one of my gloves. My healing capabilities with common magic are pretty shitty, but I can handle a burst eardrum.
He rears away from me and brushes dirt off his clothes, determinedly not looking at me. “For the last fucking time, Oakley, leave me alone. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
I arch a brow. “Tell your body that. Most people don’t pop a boner when tackling someone else out of harm’s way.”
Everett’s cheekbones turn pink, and he mutters something under his breath that I don’t catch. For whatever reason, my comment also makes Silas snap to attention. He gives Everett a death glare as he finishes healing his own shoulder. The skin is still raw and red, but the worst burns have faded.
“A word, professor?
” he snaps, grabbing Everett by the arm and pulling him out of earshot.
I watch them, noting that while Silas is furious, the ice elemental looks frustrated and chastened. Is Silas this mad because Everett got close to me? None of my matches have reacted like this about me getting physical with the others, so that seems unlikely.
Curious.
At the thought of Crypt, I glance out over Everbound Forest, trying to gauge how far away the wards are. I’ll have to get through them to get Kenzie, but I wonder if Crypt will be able to get through the wards when he returns.
Fine, I admit it. I miss my invisible stalker more than I thought possible.
My attention is arrested when I spot Baelfire returning to the field, now clothed. Relief hits me. I must have been far more worried about what Del Mar would do to him than I even realized.
Yet, as Baelfire gets closer, I see that his face is twisted in anger. His ears are bright red as he joins everyone else on the field. I can’t figure out why he looks so pissed off until sunlight catches on the shiny buckle of a leather collar around his throat.
I know plenty of things about shifters, but one thing especially: collars are considered far more degrading in their culture than they are to any other beings. It’s seen as a severe insult to their inner animals. Utterly humiliating.
I’m not the only one who notices Baelfire’s new accessory, as another nearby shifter gasps.
“What the fuck? Dude, what the hell? Did they actually—” he begins.
“
Shove it, Keith,” Baelfire snarls before stopping beside me and folding his brawny arms.
I press my lips together, studying the collar. While some unexplored part of me finds this look on him bizarrely hot, I don’t like what it stands for.
I don’t like that they put it on him.
“Take it off.”
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.