Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
MAVEN
Of my many problems, two have my full attention as we walk through the blustery, cold December night in downtown Hastings toward the diner Kenzie told me about.
My first problem is that I’m starting to…feel things. For all four of my matches.
Sure, I wanted them before. I decided they were mine and that I would fight for them.
But now?
Every time Silas looks at me or speaks in my head, I feel this rush of rightness now that we’re bound together. Whenever Everett comes anywhere near me, I get the urge to reach out and pull him closer—though right now, he’s trying to keep his distance, grumbling that it’s cold enough without him making it worse for me. Baelfire keeps finding tiny excuses to touch me anywhere he possibly can to warm me up, and damn it, I like that.
Adding the fact that I can feel Crypt watching my every move from where he walks behind us just as obsessively as he does whenever he’s in Limbo…
My entire life has been spent carefully locking away my emotions, so I have no fucking idea how to deal with all of this. Can’t all of these stupid flutters in my stomach wait until I kill off the rest of the Immortal Quintet and have more time to process them?
Catching feelings is so damn inconvenient.
But my second problem is that we’re being followed.
I first noticed it two blocks ago and haven’t said anything to the others yet. It’s better to play it cool until I have more information on this potential threat, especially since we’re doing an excellent job of blending in with the other humans bustling about this small town, blasting holiday music outside every little shop.
Baelfire opens the door to the busy diner. “After you, Boo.”
“One of these days, that nickname has to go.”
He winks and tries to kiss me as I pass by, but Everett shoves the dragon shifter back, lowering his voice.
“Remember our cover. Humans are typically monogamous, so we’re pretending she’s with me. If the rest of you idiots get handsy with her, they’ll figure out we’re a quintet of legacies.”
On top of the camouflage spell that should make their exact features and appearances impossible to remember for others for the next few hours—except for me, since I brewed the potion—I decided to take extra precautions with Everett. To try to dull his modelesque appearance, he’s wearing a frumpy coat, oversized scarf, and a fur-lined trapper hat that my fashion-conscious match has made no secret of loathing in the extreme.
Bael flips him off. “Thanks for the reminder, Professor Cockblock.”
I slip into a corner booth with my quintet, quickly surveying my surroundings. There are seven potential exits. If a fight finds us, I’ll get us out of here in no time to keep these innocent humans from being in too much danger.
The person on our tail hasn’t come into the diner.
Curious. If it were a bounty hunter, being in a public place wouldn’t have stopped them. Is someone else after us? Are they just waiting outside for us to emerge?
What is it, sangfluir? Silas’s voice asks softly in my head.
Nothing yet, I reply telepathically, glancing at my bound match across the circular corner booth. The fae is wearing a dark maroon sweater that somehow suits him perfectly.
Yet?
“If you could stop with the telepathy until the rest of us figure out how to join in,” Crypt drawls, glaring at Silas, “that would greatly reduce my desire to crush your skull. Wouldn’t want you to lose your head so soon after getting your sanity back.”
“Oh, that I could lie so easily,” Silas fires back, opening a menu.
Crypt is dressed in a black hoodie smattered in fake blood that reads, “I put the laughter in slaughter.” I know for a fact that Bael didn’t buy that when he went out to get clothes for us, but I was already aware that my Nightmare Prince has sticky fingers.
Baelfire did, however, buy me a nice oversized black sweatshirt and something called jeggings, which are far tighter than anything I typically wear yet somehow comfortable. I can’t prove that he bought the tighter pants just so he can check out my legs and ass, but I keep catching all of them doing just that.
No complaints here.
Baelfire throws an arm around the back of the booth and slides closer to me, flipping open the menu on the table in front of me and whispering in my ear.
“Hungry, hellion? I’m dying to feed you.”
Everett smacks Bael’s arm away to put his arm around me instead—but we all jolt in surprise when an animalistic snarl rips out of Baelfire’s throat as he bares his teeth at the elemental. His gaze has shifted to the fiery golden-eyed slits of his dragon.
Shit. He hasn’t hunted today.
Immediately, the gorgeous shifter flinches and buries his head under his arms on the table like he’s trying to silence his dragon.
“Damn it. Sorry, Boo,” he rasps quietly.
Luckily none of the humans nearby seem to have noticed that outburst. Resting my hand on Baelfire’s knee under the table, I rub it reassuringly.
At least, I hope it’s reassuring. I suck at shit like this.
“Maybe you should go hunt a squirrel or something.”
“I’m not leaving your side.”
“But—“
“I can’t leave your side,” he grits, voice muffled. “My dragon won’t let me. Just keep touching me. It helps keep him in check when nothing else will.”
Seeing my charming, cheerful match so tortured irks me deeply. Before I can demand that Baelfire go and kill something to appease his curse, a waitress approaches the table. Even though she’s smiling as she greets us and starts filling water glasses, there’s an unmistakable eyebrow raise of suspicion as her gaze flicks around the table.
“Happy holidays, and welcome to Bella’s Diner. What can I get for you…
five?”
Yep. She definitely suspects that we’re a quintet of legacies.
Except for Crypt, the others place orders while I try to decipher the menu. When my turn comes, I still have no fucking idea what’s in most of the dishes listed. I decide to play it safe with something Kenzie ordered for me when we used to go to Halfton.
“I’ll have potatoes.”
“Mashed or baked?”
Neither sounds right. What are those things called again?
“She means chips,” Crypt offers, spinning a butterknife on the table out of boredom.
The waitress frowns. “Like, just a bag of potato chips? We don’t have that here.”
“Fries,” Everett clarifies.
Right, that’s what those are called.
My ice elemental goes on with, “Let’s make that a large order of parmesan fries, the Southwest salad with absolutely no chicken or bacon, and the vegan specialty black bean burger. What else?” he glances at the others.
“She’s never tried hot chocolate. Let’s also add the French toast,” Silas says. He looks at me and telepathically asks,
Yes or no to whipped cream on that?
What the fuck is whipped cream?
“Extra whipped cream,” he decides aloud.
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.