Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
As soon as we reach our quintet apartment and slip into her room, I set Maven on the massive bed. I sit beside her to kiss her nose, cheeks, and those soft lips before smiling at her.
“Hey. We have a surprise you’ll like. Silas, show her.”
He frowns. “Show her what?”
“You know. The thing in your pocket.”
He continues to look mystified.
Maven tips her head. “Is that an innuendo? Is the thing in his pocket his cock?”
“No,” I sigh, standing to approach Silas. “Your fae is just fucking delusional right now. Silas. Give it.”
I reach for his jacket pocket, but he grabs my hand to stop me, scowling. “What the hell are you?—“
“Just take it out,” I snap.
He clearly thinks
I’m the one who’s lost my mind. Crypt is openly laughing as he enjoys watching all of this, while Everett looks like he’s questioning how his life brought him to this exact moment.
Using my shifter speed to move quicker than Silas, I snatch the necromancer’s hand out of his pocket before he can stop me again. I hold it up triumphantly. Maven’s eyes widen.
And then, just like I was aching for, a dark grin slips over her pretty face.
“That’s…” she begins.
“Dagon’s hand,” Silas remembers abruptly examining the morbid souvenir as he gently sets the glass jar holding Maven’s heart on the bed beside her to take the hand from me.
Oh, sure, now he remembers. Fucking insane blood fae.
“I wanted to bring you his charred bones, but not as much as I wanted to get back to you fast,” I admit.
“How violent of you. I love it anyway.”
We all watch, holding our breaths as Silas cautiously places the necromancer’s hand on top of the jar resting on the bed. He clamps the lifeless, blackened fingers around the lid, whispers words I don’t understand, and squeezes, twisting.
The jar opens.
We all remain quiet, so the only sound in this room is the quiet beating of her preserved heart that I’m not even sure the others can hear. No one seems to know what to say until Maven takes an unsteady breath, lifting her chin as she reaches into the jar.
“This is probably going to hurt like a motherfucker, so it’s better to get it over with.”
My mate is trying to put on a brave front, but I’ve never seen her look so shaken as her fingers close around the shadow-cloaked heart, pulling it from its glass cage. For a moment, she stares at it in her hand, her face unreadable. Meanwhile, we all stare at her, gathered around the bed. The tension in the room is thick enough to almost taste.
Our keeper looks at Everett. “Mind holding it for a second?”
“N—no, I can’t. You shouldn’t let me. I might hurt it if I?—“
“You won’t. Here,” she says, placing it in the elemental’s hand.
He gets even paler as he gawks at the beating heart in his frosted, bare hands—but I’m immediately distracted when Maven strips off her dark jacket, oversized black T-shirt, and black bra. When she pulls her etherium knife out of nowhere and places the tip against her chest with a determined expression on her face, my vision almost blacks out.
“No!” I snap, wrapping my hand over hers on the handle to stop her. “Fuck, no.”
“Baelfire. I have to put it inside my chest,” she says, trying to reason with me.
I knew she’d have to do something with the heart, but I didn’t think about the logistics of it. When I glance at the others for help with this impossible situation, they look as torn and frustrated by the idea of her having to hurt herself as I am.
Finally, Silas moves to Maven’s side on the bed. He carefully takes the etherium blade from her hands, looking like the weight of the world is on his shoulders as he does what’s necessary.
“I already have your blood on my hands. At least this time, it will help you.”
“You can’t tell what’s real from your own shadow right now,” Everett points out, still holding Maven’s heart like it’s the most precious thing in the world—because it is. “Are you seriously about to perform godsdamned surgery on her?”
Silas takes a deep breath, looking into her eyes. “I know this is real.
Tha galeath.”
“Tha galeath,” she whispers back, bracing herself.
The scent of my mate’s blood slams into me as he carefully makes an incision with the knife her mother gifted her. I don’t realize I’m snarling until Crypt grips my shoulder to stop me from rushing forward. Blood drips steadily from Maven’s chest until Silas finally drops the knife, his hands shaking, but our keeper is already taking her heart back from Everett.
“Maven,” he chokes as snowflakes begin to fall inside this room.
She’s in pain, but begins chanting anyway. I don’t understand any of it—or maybe I do and it’s all just a blur because I can’t fucking breathe as I watch glowing light gradually replace the shadows swirling around Maven’s heart.
Just as she sways from the tax of the spell, Maven plunges the heart back into her chest. Her cry of agony cuts through my very soul before she collapses on the bed.
“Maven!” I shout, panic taking over.
I can hear the others’ alarm, too, but darkness claws savagely at my vision as my dragon seizes control once again. He pushes me toward that stupid fucking corner. I push back. I fight with everything in me, but I still lose as I’m suffocated in the beast once again.
Maven.
The spell has to work. She has to wake up. If I just lost her again?—
No. I barely survived losing her the first time. She came back from fucking
Paradise to reunite our quintet and have a future together. My mate is a damn demigoddess and the strongest person I’ve ever met. She has to survive.
I cling to that hope for all I’m worth until something pierces through the overwhelming control my inner dragon has over me. Shaking out of the beast’s grasp, I find that I’m tied by my leash to a desk in the corner of Everett’s room.
Crypt sits beside me on the floor. I’ve never seen the incubus look so downcast before, but he’s holding Maven’s etherium knife and clearly just cut my arm with it.
I rub my quickly-healing arm, disoriented as I look around the ice-covered room. Everett is pacing, leaving more ice with every footstep. Silas is rocking himself in the chair by the bed, clutching at his hair as he mutters to voices in his head.
My stomach drops and churns so quickly that I don’t know if I’m about to throw up or break into a thousand pieces as I look at Crypt.
“How long have I…how long has she
?
—
“
“Two hours,” he rasps.
I look over at Silas, my heart struggling to beat. “Si. With the spell she did, how long is it supposed to take?”
He doesn’t respond as he continues to rock.
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