Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“Such beautiful screams,” Dagon wheezes, still laughing nonsensically. Then his gaze slips to the mummified corpses nearby.
“Vivere rursus ad mortem!”
Dark magic pulses through the air, dropping the temperature in this abandoned cabin even further. All at once, the corpses on the table lurch upright, moving with the unnatural speed of the Undead as they dart toward us.
One of them tackles Crypt immediately, bringing down the already-weakened incubus as Dagon collapses. The other Undead sinks broken teeth into my already injured arm. The shock of the pain makes me drop my blade of ice as I struggle to shake off the aggressive fiend.
Crypt shouts in pain just before a bright blast of Silas’s red magic illuminates the space, disintegrating the Undead attacking the Nightmare Prince. I finally kick off the one biting me and scramble to retrieve my ice sword, slashing quickly to cut the damn thing in half. Both of its halves are still trying to get to me, but I ignore them and turn to see that Baelfire is now gripping Dagon by the front of his robes, hauling him high in the air.
“What are the chances we can find Maven’s heart without having to ask this sick fucker another godsdamned question?” Baelfire snarls.
Silas wipes blood from his nose. “I’d say high, because my tracking spell leads into the basement.”
“Good.” A strange sound rumbles low in Baelfire’s throat before the shifter breathes blue fire that quickly ignites the necromancer.
Dagon’s screaming is different this time. He’s in more pain, thrashing helplessly as the flames consume him and a horrific smell fills the room, almost strong enough to turn my stomach.
And the entire time that Maven’s old tormentor burns, Baelfire holds him high in the air, watching with pure, satisfied menace on his typically smiley face.
BAELFIRE
It always hurts, breathing fire in human form. I used to avoid it when I could, because it burns my insides, and my shifter healing has to work triple time to undo the damage.
But this time? So fucking worth it.
Watching the scumbag who tortured my mate turn into ash as I hold him is satisfying. My feral inner dragon enjoys it, too, so for one long, blissful minute, he isn’t vying for control of my brain and body.
Once Dagon’s screaming cuts off and he’s nothing more than a smoldering lump of good-for-nothing charcoal, I drop him to the cabin floor and brush off my hands.
Good fucking riddance.
When I turn back to the others, expecting them to be on top of the ball and already looking for Maven’s heart, I instead realize they’re all watching me. Silas’s brows are raised, and Crypt is outright grinning. Even the previously uptight Frost looks pleasantly surprised.
“Not bad, Decimus,” Crypt laughs despite his glowing markings and slowly-healing cuts.
“Go fuck yourself,” I huff, not interested in praise if it doesn’t come from the sexiest woman in the world, who I can’t fucking wait to get back to. Ignoring the furious blue flames still licking under my skin, I turn toward the basement door. “Come on. I’m done keeping Maven waiting.”
Searching the basement takes too damn long. I’m fighting tooth and claw here to stay inside my own head as we rummage through dusty storage bins, spiderweb-covered wooden chests, and a bunch of other creepy shit that looks like it belongs in an old black-and-white movie about treasurehunters.
Finally, I lose the battle as I’m shoved back into the little corner I can barely even call home.
It’s frustrating as hell, knowing my dragon is either going to hurt someone or fuck around and enjoy his dominance over me, all while my mate is probably upset that we left her side.
You’re an asshole, I grumble at my dragon.
Tasty spiders.
Excuse me? He had better not be shoving spiders in my mouth while I have no control over my body. Fucking nasty.
I can’t tell how much time has passed when pain cuts through the blurry haze of my half-existence. I find myself standing in thick snow, not far from the place Felix said he’d wait for us. Blinking in confusion, I realize Silas just shocked me with magic.
“Thanks for snapping me out of it,” I mutter, relieved to be mostly in my head again as I tug at the collar around my throat.
“It wasn’t a favor. I had to frighten your ear leeches away,” he says like that sentence makes perfect sense.
Crypt and Everett are standing beside us, having stopped the trek back to Felix to see what’s going on. Everett looks impatient as frost clings to his trench coat, but my attention immediately drops to the glass apothecary jar in Crypt’s hands.
Inside the jar is a softly beating heart surrounded by dark, swirling magic.
Oh, my gods.
That belongs inside my keeper.
I’m both disturbed and relieved. My own heart pounds as I stare at the mesmerizing, morbid display. “Fuck. Just…fuck.”
“Articulate as ever, Decimus,” Crypt drawls, but there’s an undertone of pain as his markings light up over and over.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be the one holding that,” I frown. “If you collapse again?—“
“I’d sooner rip out my own heart than let anything happen to this, and you know it.”
He turns to continue down the faint path left behind from our journey to the cabin, though so much snow has fallen that our tracks have practically been buried already. The rest of us follow, with a few ravens fluttering alone, cawing at us like spooky little reminders of my adorably spooky mate. A few minutes later, we find Felix sitting on a fallen log as he communicates with someone through the scrying brand on his arm.
As soon as he glimpses us, he stands and adjusts his thick coat, shivering in the cold. “Oh, good. I won’t have to tell Maven you’re all dead. You were gone long enough that I—” His gaze slips to the heart Crypt is carrying, and the breath whooshes out of him. He swallows audibly, eyes comically wide with something between fear and fascination. “So that’s what you really came here for. I mean, I heard he ripped it out of her, but I had no idea it was still?—“
“Is there even the tiniest possibility that a transportation spell would harm it?” Everett demands. He’s clearly done with the small talk and as desperate to get back to her as I am.
Felix seems unable to take his eyes off Maven’s heart as he frowns. “No, I highly doubt it. That looks like an extremely powerful preservation spell, so it should be fine. Plus, if Dagon brought it here, he probably transported with it multiple times.
Rumor has it that a lot of necromancers fled Amadeus’s kingdom after the Upheaval because he began permanently killing off a lot of his court as he began his conquest of the mortal realm. Dagon must have?—“
“Dagon, Shmagon,” I cut in, gesturing at the glass jar. “We have a heart to return to the sexiest, deadliest demigoddess in the world, so chop chop, Grayscale.”
He glowers at me. “Kenzie once described you as a giant, friendly golden retriever with a bit of a temper. Personally, I understand why they keep a hulking beast like you in a collar.”
Jackass.
As the caster begins laying the transportation spell, I notice Silas take a hand out of his coat pocket. A fucking hand. Based on the blackened fingertips, it’s probably Dagon’s, but still. What a creep.
“Si,” I begin like I’m talking to a toddler, holding out my hand. “Whatever the voices in your head are telling you, you don’t need to hoard a creepy-ass dismembered hand. Give it.”
He surprises me by giving me a very non-insane-Silas look, like he thinks I’m a moron. “We do need it, because the jar is sealed with the same spell as is laid on that nifty collar around your neck. Without Dagon’s hand, it would be impossible our naught we cridhe dhi.
“
It’s the weirdest thing. One second he sounds sharp as a tack, and the next I have no fucking idea what he’s trying to communicate as he smacks away creatures that don’t exist.
At long last, Felix is ready and we all move close until we’re in a huddle touching each other’s arms. A bright flash of green light turns my world inside out before suddenly, we’re standing just outside the ancient servants’ entrance into Everbound Castle.
The trouble is, this entrance is no longer being ignored. I realize we just transported into the middle of dozens of humans, legacies, and Nether humans who are literally camping outside the stronghold. Our unexpected entrance makes them gasp and shout in excitement.
Before we have time to react, camera flashes begin blinding all five of us.
“Is it true that the telum is divine?” someone shouts. “How did she come back from the dead?”
“Where is the demigoddess now?”
Someone else shoves forward, almost jostling Crypt, who quickly shields the jar with his ripped leather jacket to keep it out of the camera’s view as more flashes blind us.
“I need a miracle! Please, can I meet the daughter of the reaper? I’m begging you!”
“We’re building a temple for Maven Oakley! We need to measure her for a statue in her honor, so please?—“
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.