Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
My poor, sunshiney shifter looks miserable, his shoulders slumping. “My dragon is fucking awful right now. I don’t even know what thoughts are mine and which are his. I just…”
His nostrils flare, his gaze darting down the hall. We all follow where he’s looking and see a random group of legacies chatting and heading our way. One of them, a shifter, glances over and waves at Baelfire, obviously another friend.
He turns back to me, shrugging off his brown jacket. “Wear this. I need my scent on you.
Now.”
Did he just growl at me? I fold my arms. “Let’s try that again.”
He steps closer until his singed cedar scent envelops me. I’m an average size, but I feel dainty next to his brawny mass. He lowers his voice so only I can hear him.
“After we fucked, I thought my dragon would start to calm down. But it’s so much worse. It’s like now that I know exactly how perfect my mate is, I can’t think about anything except someone trying to take you away from me. I swear on all six gods, Maven, I will lose my fucking shit and kill the first person who so much as breathes in your direction if you’re not wearing my scent today.”
His voice is strained and dangerous. This new display of angry possessiveness does something to me on a primal level that’s difficult to ignore. I swallow and slip on the jacket before looking up at him.
“There. Better?”
Relief mixed with satisfaction sweeps over Baelfire’s features as he takes in the sight of me in his jacket. It puts him at ease enough that he cracks a smile. “Damn, that could be a dress on you. You’re so little.”
“I’m normal. You’re huge,” I correct.
“All over, baby, and you loved it.”
Well. He’s not wrong.
But I’m not about to draw attention to comments like that when they’re all present. I’ve learned that their hive mind gets activated really damn fast, so if one of us, including myself, brings up anything sexual, there’s no way I’ll be able to focus all day.
Now that Baelfire is no longer on edge, I glance at Silas. “You look awful. Did you even sleep?”
“No.”
“Join the club,” Everett grumbles as we start down the hall.
Crypt smirks. “I never sleep, so this club must be named after me.”
“You don’t need sleep, you monster sperm,” Silas snaps.
They continue to trade barbs as we head to class. Baelfire is annoyed at Everett for not waking me up sooner so I could eat something for breakfast, Crypt lights another of his strange cigarettes and blows smoke at any other legacies who pass us too closely in the halls, and Silas keeps glancing between Everett and I as if he’s piecing together what may have happened last night based on how we interact.
And being with all of them like this…
How did I ever think they were only interested in the bet? If anything, they’re all getting more obsessive and over the top with every dark secret I reveal. And it’s extremely possible that I’m getting obsessed with them, too.
Huh. Maybe the gods picked out people who complement my broken, twisted soul after all.
In Fiend Studies, which has dwindled a bit in size thanks to how brutal the legacies with an emphasis on combat have been, Mr. Crowley announces that we’ll study in the eastern library today. Our assignment is to find a book about creatures of the Nether to study in our quintets and present it in a few days.
As we walk to the library, Crypt leans over and whispers, “Does studying you count for filling this assignment? Because I’m becoming rather an expert on all things Maven Oakley.”
I smirk. It’s cute that he thinks that when they don’t even know my last name isn’t actually Oakley.
Not that it matters, because I also don’t know what my real last name once was. I’ll probably never know, since my family is long dead. Amadeus told me they were brutally killed off, just like the families of every other child taken into the Nether.
We finally reach the library and I’m surprised and a little on edge to see that we’re not the only class here. Plenty of other legacies, both matched and unmatched, are mulling about in their quintets or allies, eying others warily as they go through the motions of studying. Several of the Immortal Quintet’s hired hands scan the room from various perches, looking for trouble.
And Engela Zuma sits at one table, reading silently while also keeping watch.
“Babysitters. Big surprise,” Bael huffs, tugging at his collar again.
I hold his hand as an excuse to stop him while everyone else in our Fiend Studies class scatters, moving to various library aisles for research. I notice someone waving frantically at me from across the room and light up when I see Kenzie’s halo of hair. She’s sitting with her quintet at one of the massive, old mahogany study tables beside a long row of tall, arched windows.
We join them. As soon as I sit down across from Kenzie, Luka, who’s sitting beside her, clears his throat.
“Hey, I owe you an apology, Min—Maven,” he corrects, glancing at Kenzie to make sure that was right.
She covers her mouth to stop from laughing and nods. Luka looks back at me, and the earnest gratitude in his eyes is honestly a bit much.
“I didn’t think you’d actually help us, but…thanks. You have no fucking idea how much I owe you for getting her back. I—” He clears his throat and looks back at Kenzie. His features soften like he’s looking at the most precious thing in the world. “How can I thank you for saving the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”
Vivienne nods in agreement, sniffling. Dirk is equally emotional and getting teary-eyed despite scratching at his elbow.
Oh, gods. I had no idea I was walking into this again.
I realize I must look mildly horrified because Crypt starts shaking with silent laughter on the bench beside me, looking away to hide his amusement.
Asshole. He must know public displays of emotion freak me out.
“It was nothing,” I grumble, opening a random book to avoid their earnest stares.
Kenzie snickers, too. “Awe! Are you getting embarrassed? Who knew you were so bashful, May?”
I kick her under the table, only I miss and kick Dirk instead. He jerks, looking at Crypt suspiciously. My unhinged Nightmare Prince takes full credit, grinning nice and creepily slow so that everyone across the table immediately busies themselves with studying.
Baelfire sits on my other side while Everett and Silas leave to look for more books. As we sit in the quiet library, I once again study the countless bookshelves and the hallways leading into the restricted areas and wonder…is there anything archived away about what I am?
When I arrived at Everbound, I spent exorbitant amounts of time in its two libraries. I’ve read through their collections about the five planes of existence, human and legacy history, the Great Wars, the six gods, theories about what afterlives await in the Beyond, and all their records about the shadow fiends and monsters that legacies fight at the Divide.
But there are gaps in their knowledge about what else lurks in the Nether. Which is disappointing since I’d hoped to find something about my condition. I’d even hoped there might be an antiquated, long-forgotten method of how to reverse what they turned me into.
Alas, hope is a cold-hearted bitch. There’s no fixing what they made me.
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Luka clears his throat and glances over my quintet. “So, are our quintets like…allied together? None of us are going to harm each other, right?” He glances at Crypt warily.
“We don’t need allies,” Silas drawls at the same time Baelfire says, “Sure, why not?”
Kenzie grins. “Pretty sure that’s left up to the keepers, guys. And since Maven and I are the keepers, we officially say we’re allied as fuck. Right, May?”
I nod.
“Very convincing,” Luka mumbles.
Dirk gently swats at his shoulder. “Stop being a brat. They’re our friends, so of course, none of us are going to cause problems for each other.”
I notice when Baelfire tenses beside me. He’s glaring daggers across the library…at Harlow Carter, who’s watching me.
Finally.
She’s been like a splinter in my brain ever since the changeling mentioned her last name. I didn’t have time to track her down, so it’s awfully nice of her to show up on a silver platter like this for me.
“I don’t like Carter staring at you, Raincloud,” Baelfire growls.
I guess Raincloud is the new Mayflower. Maybe nicknames are my curse.
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.