Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Maven pulls away to look at him, and it’s obvious they’re having a telepathic exchange without the rest of us. I always dislike being on the outside of a conversation my muse is involved in, but finally, Frost takes a deep, grounding breath and releases her.
“Finally,” Decimus mutters, sweeping her into a tight hug next. “Gods, I’m going to be so fucking distracted worrying about you, Boo.”
“No distractions,” Maven corrects, kissing his cheek. “Remember the plan. We’ll check in with each other telepathically as much as we can.”
As if to underline her point, Crane’s voice echoes through the bond.
Your Undead army is officially on the move, ima thanafluir.
“That’s our cue, love,” I say, stepping on my cigarette to put it out as I reach for her.
“Wait,” Decimus protests. He inhales against her neck and kisses the mating mark he left there. “Just another minute.”
“Fucking hypocrite,” Frost grumbles.
Finally, Maven pulls away from her dragon shifter and steps toward me, slipping her gloved hand into mine. “All right. Let’s go kill the king of the Undead.”
It hurts like fucking hell to slip into Limbo this time around, but I don’t let it show. Maven doesn’t bother closing her eyes this time as I guide her swiftly through the shattered, distorted realm of dreams. I suppose now it makes sense that my darling was never affected by Limbo—after all, her mother is the goddess of dreams, whom all incubi tend to worship the most.
Not me, obviously. But then, my mother-in-law clearly isn’t keen on me, either.
Tell me you’re still okay, Frost demands through the bond not twenty minutes into our travel, which is greatly expedited through Limbo.
Why, I’m right as rain, but thanks ever so much for your concern, my snow-white dove, I reply saccharinely.
I can hear Decimus laughing through the bond because he appreciates humor, and Maven is smirking, but Frost just swears at me.
Maven?
I’m fine, she promises him.
We’re almost to the citadel.
Decimus is surprised.
Damn, that was fast.
Flying through Limbo must be so fucking convenient.
You’re a godsdamned dragon, Crane reminds him.
You can fly, too.
Sure, as a twenty-five-ton gleaming golden monster. Not super convenient when it comes to landing, believe it or not. Are you still alive, Boo?
For now.
She probably means that to be funny, but the rest of my quintet doesn’t like that reply at all. They remind her about context and “too soon” through the bond until we pass into the depths of the Nether. Here, Limbo is even more of a hazy mess that smells strongly of ozone as it seeps into this other, dimmer plane of existence. A few dim wisps float in the distance in every direction as my ragged dream world drifts more like a mist here.
Maven notices the difference and glances at me. “Limbo is different past the borders of the Nether.”
I nod, admiring the subtle cacophony of colors in her dark gaze. My markings light up again, and I try to keep the pain out of my voice.
“The domain of dreams only started seeping into the Nether over the last few months, when I let it fragment. Limbo mostly overlaps the mortal realm, but in areas like this where it stretches past the Divide, it gets far weaker and more difficult to traverse,” I explain.
Her brow furrows. “If it’s hurting you?—“
“Even if it were, I have you to kiss it all better,” I remind her, kissing her temple.
Wrapping my arm more securely around the most important person in my existence, I kick off the ground so we float quickly through what I assume are misshapen, ancient trees. According to the map Maven made, this is the twisted forest surrounding the outskirts of Amadeus’s arena and citadel. From her dreams, I know she grew up isolated in a small, austere hovel in a clearing near these woods. Only Lillian was permitted to visit the warded hovel so she could take care of Amadeus’s favored mortal child.
I’m certain those very memories are on Maven’s mind as she also studies the vague shapes of this forest through the foggy, deformed view of Limbo. The map she outlined mentioned all kinds of deadly things here. Bloodthirsty creatures. Poisonous bogs. Monster lairs.
Knowing she grew up in constant peril makes the aches in my dying bones even worse.
Maven?
Crane’s voice checks in.
Still fine.
You don’t sound fine, Frost scowls.
What’s wrong?
I know Amadeus’s kingdom the same way I know the exact weight and feel of Pierce in my hand, she muses through the bond, her arms circling around me more tightly.
It’s just strange to be back.
Are you at the citadel now?
Decimus asks.
We break out of the murky woods. All at once, I find that we’re gazing through the distortions of Limbo at an imposing wall and gates made of onyx. Several large adamantine spikes protrude from the ground surrounding the walls of the citadel, and hanging from them are disemboweled monsters rotting in the grayscale Nether. Beyond the gates, a massive temple-like structure rises over the inner ward of the Entity’s lifeless kingdom.
Now we are, Maven confirms, before taking a deep breath.
Okay. After we get through this, I want ice cream.
I’ll buy you all the ice cream in the entire godsdamned world as long as you get back to me in one piece,
Frost promises.
And I want more orgasms, she adds.
“It would be my pleasure,” I grin.
Decimus groans through the bond.
Since I give you way more orgasms than the others combined, leave it to me, Mayflower.
None of us fault your lizard brain for your inability to count, but I’m clearly in the lead when it comes to giving our keeper pleasure, Crane argues.
Smirking at their continued argument in the background of our bond, Maven glances at me and switches to speaking aloud. “Ready?”
“Lead the way, love.”
She takes my hand and pulls me through the warped kaleidoscope of oddity that is Limbo until we reach a new section of the walls surrounding the citadel. It looks exactly the same to me as the rest of the outside, but my darling obsession spent most of her life in the Nether and knows the exact place to pass through the onyx.
We wind up inside a dark hallway beside ancient stone spiral steps. Maven grips my hand tightly as we take those steps, descending deep into abysmal darkness.
“Where are we?” I whisper, irritated that the darkness is prevalent enough to almost obscure my beautiful obsession from my incubus night vision. Having her out of my sight for even a moment is intolerable.
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