Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
All the shit in this cozy little cabin was either bought by me yesterday in Tall Pine’s little marketplace, or it was stolen from gods-know-where by Crypt. It was left empty and lightly furnished when we found it—probably someone’s summer cabin.
“This is hard enough without you opening your fat mouth,” I grit out.
“Pretty sure you mean you’re hard enough, Professor Blue Balls.”
“Shut up. Is Silas still keeping Maven distracted?”
The plan was to set up a miniature Starfall Eve to surprise her. Even though we’re considered public enemies and we’re only here until we have a lead on etherium, we decided this was an important first for our keeper. After all, we’re all pretty damn sure she never celebrated the holiday in the Nether.
Starfall started as the celebration of the day the gods first cursed monsterkind. It’s said that when the humans’ prayers were answered, lights like stars rained down from the sky—the wrath of the gods visible to the naked eye. All monsters in the mortal realm suffered vicious curses that humbled and subdued them once they learned they needed to find their quintets. That led to armistices, treaties, intermingling with humans, and eventually legacies.
Hundreds of years later, that day is still the biggest celebration of the year, even if it is too commercialized for most elementals’ liking.
Baelfire opens his mouth to answer my question, but Crypt blurs into existence right in front of me, making both of us swear.
“They’re having a bath together,” he drawls, trying to peek into the paper bags. I hold them away from him. “I offered to join, but an awful lot of that telepathic rubbish was going on. Also, Crane very dramatically insisted that he would rather castrate himself than climb into a bath with me.”
“Yet another sign that he’s completely sane now.” I set the paper bags on the small table and begin tidying up some of the messes Baelfire has left in the kitchen.
He slides a dough-filled bread pan into the oven, his voice becoming oddly strained. “Back the fuck off. This kitchen isn’t big enough for two.”
“It’s not big enough for you,” I correct.
He shoves me slightly. I shove him back, intent on cleaning some spilled flour?—
But I suddenly go airborne before slamming into one of the living room walls. It knocks the breath out of me, and my element slips quickly out of my control.
Ice explodes around me like a shield of spikes, which ends up being good and bad when Baelfire impales himself on one of the massive icicles a second later. The snarl that rips out of him is entirely inhuman. He starts tearing at the ice with his bare hands, his shifted eyes pinned on me with pure, animalistic malice.
Fuck. This isn’t Bael.
His dragon is trying to kill me.
Just as bright royal blue fire burns through his skin, and his features begin to transform, Crypt grabs the shifter by the back of his neck and vanishes into Limbo.
Uh oh. Is that incubus going to kill him?
I’ve often said that I’d like Baelfire dead, but quintets are supposed to protect each other. Losing one of us would hurt Maven more than I like to think about.
The door of the bathroom slams open, and my keeper bolts into the living room. Dark magic crackles at her fingertips as she scours the room, probably expecting bounty hunters or another threat.
She’s completely naked and dripping water, which is why I stay flat on my ass, staring at her instead of saying anything useful—because my brain is hyper-fixated on every single curve and dip of her toned, wet body.
Dear gods above. How can she be this sexy? Those hips, those dusky pink nipples, the gentle slope of her neck, the flash of danger in her dark gaze…
Even the bit of blood on her neck from an obvious feeding session with the blood fae is a beautiful splash of macabre color on an immaculate canvas.
“Maven,” Silas shouts in alarm, following her into the room.
At least he’s wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. He blinks at the damage my impact did to the wall.
“Godsdamn it all, what happened?”
Seeing Maven move too close to one of the wickedly sharp icicles, I immediately melt the ice around me and get to my feet, ignoring the ache in my bones. Nothing feels broken, but my ego isn’t the only thing that will be bruised later.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to inter?—“
Her hands frame my face as she checks it for injury before moving on to survey the rest of me. When she sees I’m unharmed, she exhales slightly and meets my eye.
I can’t say I’m doing the same for her. Her naked body is a sensual weapon, and I also can’t stop staring at the House of Arcana emblem on her scarred chest.
I need my mark on her, too. So fucking badly.
“Where are the others?” she asks.
I replay the last couple of minutes in my head. “Baelfire’s dragon just took over while he was still in human form. He lost control, and…Crypt took him away through Limbo. Outside, I guess.”
She turns to the front door.
“You’re not going out into that naked,” I snap at the same time Silas grasps her hand to keep her from leaving.
I can tell our reactions have irritated her. Luckily, before she can put us in our place, Crypt reappears, brushing snow out of his messy dark hair and off of the distressed leather jacket he picked up at some point.
“Not to worry, darling. Your pet lizard just needed to go hunting. He’ll be perfectly well soon enough.”
“Except you took him into Limbo.”
“Only briefly. I doubt his psyche was in true danger when his dragon was wholly in charge.”
Maven absorbs that, nods, and moves on, her dark gaze flicking around this festive space.
“Why the fuck is there a tree inside?”
“It’s tradition,” Silas supplies. “It will look better decorated for Starfall.”
“Decorated with what? Bones?”
“Why the hell would we put bones on it?” I ask, disturbed.
She shrugs. The movement once again draws my attention to her pretty tits and the tempting curve of her hips.
“It’s what monsters in the Nether do to mark their dens. They also hang up the skins of their kills and stain tree trunks with blood. They actually make decent decorators whenever they’re not using human skin.”
Oh, dear gods. “Baelfire was right. We need to put you in therapy.”
She seems genuinely confused by the suggestion, but the conversation derails entirely when Crypt leans over to lick a streak of the remaining blood from her neck.
Silas pulls Maven away from the incubus freak immediately, glaring at him.
“What?” Crypt asks innocently, licking his lips as he gazes at Maven, who looks like she’s fighting a smile. “It was only a taste. You get both her blood and her thoughts right now. Consider me jealous.”
“Still, what the hell? You can’t siphon from her blood,” I huff, noting that Maven is now eyeing the paper bags on the table. Meanwhile, we’re all eyeing her from head to toe.
“What’s your point, Frost?”
Never fucking mind. I keep forgetting that logic is useless against this psychopath.
Maven finally notices that we’re all practically drooling over her body. She twists her wet hair up out of her face, turning toward the bedroom. I have to physically bite my tongue to keep from groaning at the sight of her round, flawless ass.
“I’ll be right back,” she says over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.
Silas immediately glares at us, brushing still-dripping black curls off his forehead. “You three need to figure your shit out and bond with her.”
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.