Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Gag me with a fucking knife.
BAELFIRE
Almost a full day has passed since the battle officially ended, and color is beginning to saturate the world once again.
So are the idiots.
“But what is she doing now?” one of the reporters demands. “Everyone wants to see her!”
“Is your quintet the new Immortal Quintet?”
“Tell us what happened to the Entity!”
“What will happen to the Nether now? Is it still spreading?” another shouts. “Is it gone? What about Limbo?”
“The world needs to know what happens next!”
They’re all speaking over each other. Cameras flash as I stand beside Silas, glowering at the massive crowd of humans, legacies, and Nether humans gathered outside of Everbound Castle.
This is where we brought Maven’s body yesterday, after Galene put her into some kind of trance. My mate is inside the heavily guarded castle, inside our apartment with Crypt guarding her closely.
After the Entity took his final breaths and Maven’s mom reaped his soul, everything happened so quickly. What was left of Silas’s Undead army came back to their graves in this area. Fiends and monsters ran to hide deeper inside the Nether, which is no longer growing further into the mortal realm. The Reformists and all our allies have been recovering, burying the dead, and mourning—but they’ve also been celebrating.
A lot of people have started celebrating, even if they’re a little confused about what the hell went down in the Nether yesterday. As the leader of the Reformists, my mom’s been dealing with a shit ton of cameras in her face, just like this.
Everyone has questions, and they keep coming to us. It’s annoying as hell that they can’t read the room and leave us alone when we just went through so fucking much. Especially when I can barely think about anything except Maven’s current condition.
She’s still unconscious as she talks with the gods. Which means my quintet’s extremely on edge, which means Everett keeps freezing anyone who looks at him wrong, Silas is a breath away from losing his mind again, Crypt is a nightmare as usual, and I’m so fucking done with being apart from Maven.
I need my mate. I’m so desperate to hold her and covet her after all the chaos that it fucking hurts.
Finally, Silas steps forward, drawing everyone’s attention. He adjusts his gloves. Probably a good thing that he’s wearing them—a lot of people already know he’s a necromancer, but with so many Nether beings being killed off and driven back into the Nether right now, it’s smart of him not to remind the humans what he’s capable of now.
“As with any great change in history, much will remain unclear until everything has had time to settle. All you must know is that the Entity is dead,” he announces.
Gasps ring out through the crowd, and a microphone is quickly shoved at his face. My temper sparks. Gods, these people are so fucking entitled. Would it really be that bad if I set them all on fire?
Temper, Silas reminds me telepathically when he sees the blue flames flickering under my skin.
Let’s just get this over with and get back to her, I grumble back.
It’s a good thing he and I agreed to deal with this shit together, because if an annoying but innocent human shoved anything in Crypt’s or Everett’s faces right now, they’d be dead.
Not that my patience is much better when a frantic human demands, “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”
Silas’s expression almost makes me laugh. He looks at this guy like he’s a moron and enunciates slowly, gesturing at his pointed ears. “I’m fae. We are literally incapable of lying.”
“And do you have concrete proof that fae can’t lie?” the human asks like he’s onto something big.
I thought brainlessness was reserved for the Undead, he grits through the bond. When he sees that I’m trying not to laugh out loud, he huffs.
Prick. Your turn.
Fine. Sighing, I shove the microphone out of our faces and look out at everyone here. “Look, the Entity’s dead as a fucking doornail. Anyone with half a brain has started rebuilding the things we lost during the Upheaval. We don’t know what the hell is going on with the Nether yet, but when we do, the Reformist Council will issue an official statement or something. Until then, I’d better not see my keeper’s precious name in any of your motherfucking headlines.”
“But what about—” another one starts to whine, shoving another mic in my face.
My inner dragon growls at the same time I do, beyond pissed that they’re not getting it.
I’m back, Everett informs us all through the bond.
Thank all six gods. That’s our cue.
Ignoring the heated pain it takes, I breathe fire and set the fucking mic ablaze. The reporter yelps and drops it as I turn to glare at everyone else.
“That’s it. Sharing time is over, so get the fuck off Everbound property before you become dragon chow.”
The flashing lights go wild for a moment before the reporters scramble away, eager to get out of here alive with what little update they just got.
“Way to keep your cool,” Silas snorts as we stalk back into the castle.
How is she? I demand telepathically while the big double doors shut behind us and we hurry through the halls.
Still communing with the gods, Crypt manages to rasp.
He sounds like shit. Like…really weak shit. After Galene did whatever the hell she did to Maven, the incubus collapsed and I had to carry his ass back here.
When we step into our old quintet apartment and slip into Maven’s room, the Nightmare Prince looks just as feverish and exhausted as he did earlier. He’s lying beside Maven, gazing at her with sweat beaded on his brow. I’m not sure if he has any markings left, but he’s clearly in pain.
Everett is already in the room, too, sitting beside the bed and fidgeting nonstop with the reading glasses he holds in his hand. His attention sweeps to us and back to our keeper. “About time.”
My mate looks like she’s resting peacefully, but it’s bothering the hell out of me that her soul projection has been in Paradise for so long. If we didn’t still feel the bond thriving between the five of us, the world would be on fire right now.
“How did it go?” Silas asks Everett, but his red gaze stays on Maven.
“The town’s officially unfrozen,” Everett yawns.
None of us has slept since our little goddess went into this trance.
“What about your creepy-ass ice sculptures in the courtyards? You gonna unfreeze those, too?” I ask.
He shrugs, indifferent as he rubs his scarred face. “Maybe later. I can’t leave her again. It’s taking too damned long.”
I glance at Crypt, noting how ragged his breathing is. “Hey. Stalker Boy. You see anything in her subconscious?”
He reaches up to toy with a piece of her black hair. “She’s not asleep, so I cannot enter her subconscious. I can’t sense?—“
He breaks off and jerks away from Maven as a fit of coughing takes over. I wince when I see all the blood he’s coughing up, and then he struggles to catch his breath, his chest rattling.
Fuck. He’s in bad shape. I don’t even know how long he has.
“Want another injection?” Silas finally asks, solemn.
“Piss off, Crane,” Crypt groans, wiping his face and grimacing.
For a second, we’re all quiet, but then I tip my head when I hear the barest sound from outside the front door of our apartment. No one else in here hears it, but I swear my shifter hearing has only gotten stronger just like everything else since I was rebonded to Maven’s heart.
“Incoming,” I warn the others.
The others swear, irritated.
None of us is surprised to hear that someone else is approaching our apartment. The last almost twenty-four hours have been filled with nonstop visits from various members of the newly-formed Reformist Council—including Kenzie and her quintet, Harlow Carter, Asher Douglas, my mom and her quintet, and almost a dozen others.
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.