Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“It’s not sexual. Not unless you want it to be,” Bael adds with a weak smirk. But it fades quickly, and he shakes his head. “I just need to hold you for a while. Even if my curse is appeased from everything that happened today, my dragon’s still on edge, and so am I. My mate just survived getting eaten by a monster and then burned to a crisp. You probably just shaved twenty years off my life through trauma alone, you know that? I have to covet you now and make sure you’re taken care of. It’s a dragon thing.”
He places a sweet kiss on my forehead again and leaves the room.
My gaze falls back to Silas, and my fists clench when I see Silas’s brow furrowed slightly in pain. He really shouldn’t have done this. Sacrificing his powers just to heal me. This damn cutthroat blood fae does whatever he thinks it takes to get what he wants, but I’m going to give him hell for ruining himself for me when he wakes up.
“You will wake up,” I warn him, moisture crowding my eyes as I reach out and run my fingers over one of his soft curls.
After all…most casters don’t survive the transition into necromancy. Even really powerful casters don’t always have the best odds.
When my emotions become too much to handle, I finally stand and exhale harshly. I should get all this blood and gore off of me, too. Sitting here getting misty-eyed isn’t helping Silas. I need to come up with our next plan of action and get my quintet to safety before?—
Stay with me, sangfluir.
I freeze, staring down at the gorgeous blood fae. He hasn’t moved.
But I heard him in my head clear as day.
Which should be impossible for unbound quintet members. That level of connection only happens with powerful quintets—ones that have already received the blessing of the gods, broken their curses, and had their hearts bound together.
And I don’t even have a fucking heart right now, let alone the blessing of a god, so this can’t be happening. It’s just in my head.
Silas? I think, concentrating as I try to push the thought to him.
I’m here.
His brow smooths out slightly as he slips back into a deeper rest. The room is quiet as I try to decide whether I imagined that. One of my bare hands absentmindedly slips to my chest, rubbing the stinging sensation lingering there.
Then I blink.
Silas healed me with necromancy. I was burned to a crisp, and every other injury vanished without even a scar. So why is my chest still stinging?
Glancing down, I gasp at the straight, thin, rune-like line emblazoned directly over my scar—the quintet emblem for the House of Arcana.
Somehow, without a heart and without the blessing of the gods…
I’ve been bound to Silas Crane.
Volume 3
PROLOGUE
MAVEN
Three Years Ago
I sheath Pierce into my thigh strap as Lillian wraps another loaf of oat bread. As usual, I’m not in a chatty mood, but I can tell she’s nervous because she can’t stop talking.
“…which, of course, is just how the fae do things,” she goes on, placing the loaf inside a bag she made from the scraps of old clothes.
A transparent, humanoid blur drifts in front of me, waving a wispy arm to get my attention. I know exactly who this one is. She’s been following me for seven years, ever since the incident.
I make no reaction since my caretaker gets concerned whenever I interact with the ghosts.
Lillian starts working on the final loaf, blowing a strand of pale, curly hair out of her face. “And you know how I’ve told you about romcom movies? Those were my favorites, but Edgar wasn’t a fan of them. I think it’s because of the way he was raised since most fae families are so pragmatic. They work very hard to maintain their own culture. Edgar loved to say his family was the only one that remembered the correct way to make real fae mead…”
Uh oh. If she’s blabbing about her ex-husband from her long-ago life in the human realm, she’s more anxious than I realized.
She slips a wrinkled piece of parchment covered in fae runes and English translations into the bag and ties it shut. I step through the ghost to accept it from her, slinging the bag over my shoulder.
“Stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”
My caretaker turns gentle, concerned blue eyes on me and sighs. “I know saying this will make you uncomfortable, but this is a truly sweet and kind thing you’re doing. It shows you care far more than you would ever willingly admit.”
Me, sweet and kind? “Hardly.”
“Oh, really? Then why are you risking your life for them again?”
“Can’t risk something I don’t have,” I point out.
Lillian protests that she doesn’t like when I talk that way before shaking her head. “I just don’t think tonight is the best night to make another trip. You had a long, horrible day, little raven. I was forced to witness most of it, so don’t even try to pretend otherwise.”
My day was just like every other day has been ever since Amadeus ripped my heart out two and a half years ago: training until I literally dropped dead.
However, Lillian is right that today varied slightly since the necromancers strapped me down in their laboratory for more “reinforcement training.” Dagon, the chief necromancer, carved my skin to test dripping acid on exposed veins—one drop for every brush of his skin against mine.
Even I must begrudgingly admit that method of torture was grotesquely artistic. I haven’t screamed that much in a long time.
It was almost nostalgic.
But the necromancers healed me afterward, as they always do, without even a hint of scarring. So I’m fine—no need to waste time letting Lillian coddle me. Besides, I want this information sooner than later. Amadeus has been meditating on his revenge more than usual, and at the moment, he’s extra pissed.
It’s only a matter of time before I’m finally sent to the mortal world.
I glance out the glassless, shuttered window of the isolated hovel that has always been mine, located on the outskirts of Amadeus’s kingdom near the twisted woods. Lighting is always weak in the Nether, but it’s pitch black to mortal eyes at night. If I wait longer, I won’t be able to find the entrance to the system of caves I’ve been secretly using to get to the nearest human compound for over a year—ever since I made a blood oath that I would get them out of the Nether.
“I’m going tonight. The food can’t wait,” I remind Lillian quietly.
The Nether is far from flourishing. Amadeus and his court, the monsters, the Undead, and anything else that haunts this hellish plane of existence are primarily carnivorous. Lillian has worked hard to cultivate wild oats and mushrooms, and Amadeus has captive humans tend to small farms around his kingdom to feed the captives, but food has always been a scarce resource here.
A few months ago, two of those farms burned down. Now, the only humans getting enough to eat are the servants within the citadel and those forced to fight to the death in the arena for entertainment.
The nearby compound is starving.
Lillian considers the situation and finally sighs long and slow.
“All right. I’ll pray to all the gods that you make it there and back safe and sound.” She sees the face I pull and raises a brow.
“You might think praying is useless, but I promise it’s not. The gods?—“
“Forsook everyone in this shithole a long time ago,” I finish for her, double-checking everything on my person one final time.
Weapons, check.
Bag of homemade and stolen food that we’ll be punished severely for if it’s found out, check.
Fae runes, check.
Needy ghost who is now trying to tap on my shoulder, check.
And finally, one mysterious, clear shard.
Check.
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.