Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Nether caster? It takes a second for me to understand as I follow. “The one who helped the Nether humans escape? Francis or Finn or…what was his name?”
“How the hell would I know?”
I roll my eyes, finally setting Silas down when he starts to struggle. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe you would have heard his name again at some point since you weren’t trapped inside a twenty-five-ton scaly beast for the last six months.”
“Even if I did, why would I bother remembering it?” he shrugs, exhaling more smoke.
“His name is Felix,” Silas supplies hoarsely. The fae staggers a bit but smacks my hand away when I try to steady him. “Enough. I’m fine. Let’s get this over with and get to ima sangfluir ante fhada.”
This time, when he realizes he’s not using words we understand, he just tosses his hands in the air and storms through the doors into the courtyard with us right behind him. It’s snowing outside, no fucking surprise there, but at least it’s not as cloudy as it was in Manhattan. Everett is standing nearby, talking quietly with the same Nether-born caster I met briefly months ago.
Felix glances at the rest of us as we approach, keeping his face blank in a way that reminds me of Maven’s tendency to hide her emotions from people she doesn’t know. He looks less corpse-like after a few months in the mortal realm, but his skin is still sort of gray-ish, which I guess must be a Nether human thing.
I’m about to greet him when I run smack into Silas’s back. He’s stopped to glower at one of the many nearby ice sculptures.
“What did you just say?” he seethes.
Everett sighs. “No one said anything. They’re frozen, remember?”
Frozen? Curious, I turn and take a closer look at one of the sculptures near me before my mouth drops open. He’s right. There’s a whole person in there.
“Holy fuck,” I scoff. “You froze all these people and monsters and shit?”
Everett gives me a look like I’m slow. “What did you think they were?”
“I guess I thought you hired people to carve a ton of sculptures for your weird-ass high-end rich person taste in art,” I shrug.
“That makes no sense.”
“Makes more sense than you keeping a garden of living Popsicles.”
Everett rolls his eyes at me before turning to Felix. “We’re ready. Start the spell.”
MAVEN
Waking up alone is my first clue that something is going on. My quintet wouldn’t leave my side unless they had a damn good reason, so I quickly set out to find what that reason could be.
I shower and dress to cover all the love bites I still wear as reminders of their vicious need last night. Tucking both my favorite daggers into the pocket of my sweater, I slip out into the empty castle. I want to find Silas first. My poor, tortured necromancer had to leave last night before I got to really enjoy him, thanks to his stupid fucking curse.
But before I get far, I run into Lillian sipping coffee and looking out one of the tall, gothic arched windows.
“Did the salt help?” she asks innocently.
Too innocently.
Still, if Lillian knows something is going on and isn’t telling me, she must have a reason. Deciding not to interrogate her first thing in the morning, I nod and join her to see what she’s looking at. It’s the castle’s largest courtyard, where the large greenhouse sits solitary and frosted over. Unlike the other courtyards I’ve seen, Everett doesn’t keep anyone frozen here.
“Your grave is in there.”
I blink at her. “I have a grave?”
Lillian smiles softly, but it’s sad. “Everett put it together. He even had Asher enchant flowers around the honorary grave so they wouldn’t wilt. He spent a lot of time in there, actually. Do you want to see it?”
My eyes narrow. On the one hand, I absolutely know Lillian must be using my morbid delights to distract me for a reason.
But on the other hand…
Well, who wouldn’t want to see their own grave?
“Fine,” I decide, since this will probably be fast.
She leads me down the hall until we descend a small set of stairs to exit into the courtyard. The snow is greatly disturbed here, like there’s been some commotion. When Lillian sees me noticing it, she smiles.
“Asher often brings his hellhound here to play fetch.”
Playing fetch with a hellhound? Not bad.
She says something about hoping the wards don’t keep me out as she unlocks the greenhouse, but I’m distracted when three ravens land on the top of the greenhouse, peering down at me. The big one that I’ve started to take a liking to croaks low in its throat, tipping its head.
Finally, Lillian lets me into the greenhouse, and while I sense the wards ripple over my skin, they don’t stop me. Stepping inside, I study the simple setup.
There’s a headstone made out of dark blue nevermelt, carved with “Maven Amato” and dates showing my twenty-three years of not-life. A few random past belongings of mine sit at the foot of the headstone, like a pair of leather gloves, what’s left of the massage oil Everett gifted me, and the tiny vials of kraken ink I used to use to speed up my episodes.
The rest of the greenhouse surrounding the headstone is filled with thriving, ethereal white flowers that droop almost like they’re in mourning, too.
Snowdrops.
“Who knew he was poetic?” I grin, gently brushing one of the flowers with my finger. “I love it.”
Lillian smiles. “I thought you might. Are you hungry? I can make breakfast.”
I arch a brow knowingly. “Sure. Let’s invite my quintet. Just point the way to them.”
She knows the jig is up and sighs, glancing at my grave.
“They’re good matches for you, you know. I was worried when I met them. They were suffering so much from their curses, but I just…I’ve always hoped you would find people who loved you as much as you deserved. I can see that goes both ways,” she smiles. “It’s nice to see you so smitten.”
“Lillian. Where is my quintet?” I press, getting concerned.
She starts to answer, but a loud bark sounds outside, followed by vicious growling. Peeking out the greenhouse door, I see that Asher Douglas is fake wrestling a gigantic black hellhound that growls and snaps at him. He snaps back before tackling the infernal canine.
When Lillian looks out the door, her face brightens.
“I haven’t seen Dev for days,” she calls, slipping past me before I can stop and question her further. “I tried making dog treats for him. I’ll go get them.”
I protest, but she hurries out of the courtyard, leaving me to glower at the mercenary playing with his deadly pet. But speaking of deadly pets…
I have my own way of getting answers now.
Turning to the ravens still perched on the greenhouse, I focus on the big one. “Find out where my quintet is and report back.”
All three ravens squawk and flutter before winging off into the wintry morning sky. When a loud bark sounds much closer, I turn to see that Douglas’s hellhound is now standing in front of me. He tips his big, hound-like head, red eyes pinned on me as slobber drips from his razor-sharp bared teeth.
“Devil won’t hurt you,” Asher Douglas assures me without need. He brushes dirt and snow off his winter clothes and moves to stand near me, reaching up to rub behind the creature’s ear. “He only kills whatever we’re hunting on a job.”
I examine the massive canine. Hellhounds are known for their single-minded focus, their near-perfect ability to track prey for miles, their unwavering loyalty to whoever they imprinted on, and their unmatched savagery even compared to other creatures from the Nether.
As far as pets go, I consider these ones an obvious choice.
But I’m not about to pet this thing when it was once hunting me across North America.
Glancing sideways at Douglas, I arch a brow. “My quintet and I almost got you killed in Manhattan. I expected you to quit. Why are you still working for Everett?”
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.