Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“Well, that’s creepy. Thanks for the reminder that we’re haunted.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. If you get the chance, kill them. Getting out of here is much more important than whatever idiotic hangups I might still have about the executives. Gods, I should’ve known they would use the Upheaval as a damn power grab.”
I’m about to point out that killing our captors is the obvious choice, but the rest of his words sink in.
Oh, shit. He’s saying that the so-called executives are…his family. Meaning, I’m about to finally meet the Frosts I’ve heard so much about from my matches.
A dark-skinned young woman with stunning features and gorgeous natural hair sweeps into the room before stopping beside me, fidgeting with a strange bag. Her eyes are wide as she looks me over, swallowing hard and then offering a smile.
I know nothing about her, but I’m pretty sure she’s human.
“H—hello. You’re…Maven Oakley, right?”
I study her, trying to determine how much of a threat she is.
She clears her throat, growing uncomfortable under my silent scrutiny. “I—I’m?—“
“Reagan?” Everett asks from the couch, clearly recognizing her by her voice.
The girl, Reagan, looks relieved and offers me a shy smile. “Yes, I’m Reagan Bates. That name probably doesn’t mean anything to you, since I know you’re from…ahem. But before the Upheaval, I was a well-known actress—not nearly as famous as you are now, of course. I ran in a lot of the same circles as Everett. He was always very kind to me, so after everything happened, I went looking for him here, and his family took me in, and…”
Her smile fades, and she fidgets again. “They want me to make you look presentable before the trial. Their words, not mine. There will be more press, and you need to look?—“
“She looks perfect,” Everett interrupts. “Get the fuck out.”
Reagan gets wide-eyed, obviously not used to my elemental’s temper. But she stays, examining my face with objective interest as one of the more solid-looking ghosts tries to wave a hand in front of me for attention.
Fucking ghosts. This is not the time.
“You have fantastic skin. Nice, strong jaw. Honestly, there’s something kind of…quietly interesting about your face. Especially your eyes—they’re so pretty. Some mascara or even a bit of eyeliner would really make them pop. Mind if I touch things up a bit?”
Reagan’s hand moves toward my face. Every nerve in my restrained body locks as I try not to flinch, bracing myself for the torture that always comes with strangers touching me.
“Lay a finger on her perfect face, and I will fucking kill you,” Everett warns, his tone smooth and crisp as ice.
Reagan pulls back immediately, looking torn. It’s clear she’ll get in trouble for not doing this.
“Your parents—” she begins just as the double doors at the end of this grandiose room open.
“My parents can choke on Sachar’s sweaty ballsack in the Beyond, for all I fucking care,” he seethes just as a beautiful woman and a man who looks disturbingly like a middle-aged version of Everett stroll into the room, unknowingly passing through another ghostly onlooker.
“May Arati pardon you. All those years spent away from us have made you vulgar,” the richest legacy in the world mutters, his glacial eyes sweeping to where I sit.
Alaric Frost’s perfectly styled hair is just as white-blond as Everett’s. He’s in a flawless blue suit, has neatly trimmed gray facial hair, and looks incredibly refined as he examines me like I’m an endangered animal caged all for his fascinated perusal.
Everett tenses when he realizes who’s here. “Fuck.”
“Language,” his mother scolds as she sits gracefully on the couch opposite him. “I wish you wouldn’t make us go to such extreme lengths just to see you, son. You know, no matter how I tried to cater to you, you’ve ignored every single one of our dinner and event invitations for years. After the Upheaval, I decided I had to give up for my own mental health. It’s awful to feel like your own son can’t stand to be in the same room as you. Why put myself through more of that?”
She smooths her expensive-looking dress, ensures her updo is perfect, and finally looks over at me with narrowed eyes. Unlike Alaric, who looks exactly as wintry as his son, she looks more like the brief glimpse I got of Everett’s sister in a photo long ago, with large brown eyes and pretty, soft features. But unlike her daughter, her hair is bleached crisp blonde, and she’s missing the sweet smile.
Everett’s mother wrinkles her nose at me. “Reagan, finish her makeup. She still looks like a corpse. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, considering she should be dead.”
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Everett growls.
His parents exchange displeased looks.
Reagan shuffles. “I really don’t think she wants me to?—“
“Who cares what she wants? She’ll be in a coffin soon, anyway,” Daphne interrupts.
“Daphne,” Alaric finally chides. “The telum’s fate isn’t final until we discuss things with her. Until then, mind your manners. This is our heir’s renowned keeper, after all.”
He strolls toward me with a fake, white smile. “At long last, here you are. I’m afraid the rest of my quintet is still preparing for the trial and could not join us for this little chat, but if you make the right choice, you’ll have the privilege of meeting the rest of them later, over dinner.”
He moves as if to help me up from the chair. I stand on my own, shoving the chair back as hard as possible with the backs of my legs so it topples over. Glaring at the asshole who voted for Amato’s death sentence, I shuffle to the couch to sit beside Everett as well as I can in this fucking chained-up jacket.
The blue-haired female ghost I saw earlier drifts to stand directly beside Daphne Frost to wave at me. I ignore her.
When Reagan tries to leave the room, Daphne stops her.
“Wait. You might need to cover up my son’s face if the garish stories we’ve heard are true. Alaric?”
Everett’s father steps closer and pulls the bag off Everett’s head, revealing his face.
Daphne full-on screams, utterly horrified.
Gods, I fucking hate her.
My elemental looks as ridiculously gorgeous as ever, staring down his mother with cold eyes and a smirk. That smirk is everything to me. Everett might worry about what I think of his appearance, but in this moment, it’s clear that there was another reason he kept the scar.
If anything, it makes him look less like his father. Less like one of them.
“Gods on high, it’s worse than I imagined,” Alaric sighs as he sits beside his wife, rubbing his temple as if a headache is brewing.
Now Daphne is dramatically fanning away tears. “Leave at once, Reagan. Clearly, nothing can cover that. Arati have mercy, why did it have to be true? To think, I’m now the mother of two disfigured children!”
I don’t know what she’s talking about, but her words infuriate Everett. Despite the shit they forced down his throat to tamper with his abilities, snowflakes begin to fall in this room as the frost patterns on the windows grow.
Reagan rushes out of the room, smart enough to know not to stick around.
The look Everett gives his mother is pure savage contempt. “Pretend you were a mother to me all you want, but leave my sister out of this. Aside from birthing her and getting the hell out of her life, you never did a damn thing in Heidi’s favor. She deserved better than this fucked-up family.”
“Watch how you speak about our family,” Alaric begins. “Frosts do not?—“
“Frosts do not give a single flying fuck about anything except themselves,” Everett snaps. “Frosts are shallow, spineless, corrupt, pathetic, whining little?—“
His father strikes him across the face.
Hard.
I clench my teeth so hard they almost break as anger rushes hot and fast to the surface. I may be hindered now, but this asshole just signed his death certificate.
“Alaric!” Daphne protests. “His face?—“
“Is a disgrace to the Frost name now, anyway,” the elemental asshole huffs, straightening his tie and taking a deep breath for composure.
I’m ready to leap over the coffee table and shave his face off with my teeth, but Everett laughs. It’s a cold, hard sound that shuts his parents up as he looks back at them.
“The Frost name, huh? Yeah, I’m done with that. When this is over, I swear on the fucking gods that I’ll legally take my keeper’s last name.”
His parents look appalled that he would use blasphemous language, let alone suggest not wanting to be a Frost.
Meanwhile, the thought of Everett Amato makes me smile.
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.