Chapter 352 – Cursed Legacies Series In Order Read Free Online

Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee

A cake with a picture of green Jell-O on it.

I look at him. “You’re mean.”

He bursts into laughter along with the rest of my quintet and everyone else at my birthday party.

“That one is ice cream cake,” Baelfire tells me through his laughter.

They make ice cream into cake, too?

Genius.

“This one is the cake you’ll be cutting,” Everett adds, removing the other dome from the table.

I study the black heart-shaped cake, appreciating how simple it is. Crypt hands me the cake-cutting knife and murmurs, “Stab it, love,” in my ear.

Stab it? Okay.

When I jam the knife into the cake, sweet-smelling liquid spurts out of it and the guests at my party react with surprise and laughter. It’s a morbid dessert that has me grinning up at Baelfire, who looks smug as fuck.

You made me a bleeding cake,

I tell only him through the bond.

I knew you’d like it.

I love it. My mate is the best fucking mate in the world, I add, knowing the praise will go straight to his cock.

His gaze grows molten.

Watch your pretty mouth, hellion. I’m not above snatching you away and fucking you on the beach, but we have gifts for you, first.

The cakes are dished and served up to everyone. We dig in, but it doesn’t take long for my quintet to get their gifts for me from the big table full of gifts, leaving me alone for a second. Taking another bite of cake, I study the gathering with a sense of contentment unlike anything I’ve experienced until the last six months.

Thanks to the legacy and human governments merging and reforming, many positive changes are being made. All Four Houses have representation now, as do atypical casters and Nether humans who are still getting settled in this colorful plane of existence. Humans and legacies are no longer in constant danger of fiends slipping into this world, and the temples of the gods are being cleaned up and rebuilt.

Lillian would be happy about that.

I’m sure she’s happy, anyway, enjoying her afterlife with her daughter. That thought makes me smile as I watch another raven perch nearby, tipping its head at me.

“Ready for your gifts, ima sangfluir?” Silas asks, smiling at me as he reapproaches with the rest of my quintet to pull me out of my thoughts.

He sits beside me at the table and sets down a carefully-wrapped gift before kissing my cheek. With the rest of my matches watching, I quickly unwrap Silas’s gifts.

The first one is a knife with a clear handle, and swirled around in the handle are four flowers—an orchid, a dead snapdragon, a snowdrop, and a rose.

It’s obviously supposed to represent each member of my quintet.

I examine the blade. “I fucking love this. Thank you.”

“My turn,” Baelfire insists, sliding an envelope toward me.

When I open it, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. It’s a photograph of…something. I squint.

“Is it a…saddle?”

He nods, beaming at me.

“Thanks for the picture of a saddle.”

My other quintet members laugh, but Baelfire hurries to explain. “No—it’s not just a picture, it’s just that the actual thing is kinda big and still being built by Declan. But it’s a dragon saddle. For you,” he adds. “That way, you can finally ride on me and I won’t be scared out of my mind of you just falling off.”

Oh.

I grin at him. “I do like riding you. I can’t wait to ride you as a dragon, too.”

“There’s more,” he says, motioning at the envelope.

Moving aside more pictures of the saddle, I realizing there’s also several pages of some kind of list in here. It takes reading the first few lines and feeling my face warm before I realize what this is.

“Is this…your list of ways to fuck me?” I gawk.

“The one I wrote right after I met you at Everbound, and you were still pretending to hate my guts,” he confirms, preening. “I’m glad to say we’ve already checked off some of the things I wrote down, but we’re still a long way from done with it, Cutie Pie.”

Oh, my gods. I can’t believe he hung on to this.

I’m going to fuck the hell out of him later for this, right along with the rest of my quintet.

I’m still smiling like an idiot when Everett clears his throat and scoots another envelope toward me on the table, along with a small box. He’s surprisingly nervous, adjusting one of his sleeves and straightening the gifts in front of me several times before he mutters, “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. Just open the damn things.”

In the envelope are a bunch of legal documents. I browse through them, again not sure what I’m looking at—until my gaze snags on a name at the top.

Everett Amato.

“You actually changed your name,” I realize, looking at him with wide eyes.

Silas, Crypt, and Baelfire all look at Everett quickly in surprise, apparently not being in on this gift. Everett’s cheeks pinken as he scratches near his scar.

“Yeah. I meant what I said. I just wanted to show you.”

Baelfire looks at the documents over my shoulder. “Holy shit. You’re Everett Amato now. This is about to get really damn confusing, because Crypt only calls us by our last names,” he adds, laughing.

“He’ll just have to finally call me by my first name,” Everett shrugs.

Crypt stares at him for a long moment. “Okay…Everett.”

All four of my matches shudder at the same time, with Baelfire doing a full-body roll for added drama. I burst into laughter at their antics. Crypt looks like he has a bad taste in his mouth, and Everett is shaking his head.

“Hell no. I take it all back. That was weird as fuck.”

“So weird,” Silas agrees, shuddering again.

“Don’t ever do that again, Crypt. Just keep calling me Frost,” Everett grumbles.

Still laughing, I open the small box to find a set of stunning black diamond earrings. I got my ears pierced four months ago, on one of my first visits to Kenzie in Halfton, where she and her quintet now live. She’d been debating the best time to get her kids’ ears pierced, talking about how painful it is, and I was curious, so I had it done.

I’d felt nothing, but she had assured me it was because of my “freakish pain tolerance.”

“They’re beautiful,” I say, already putting them in.

Everett checks them in my ears before he kisses my cheek. “

You’re beautiful.”

Crypt is next and promptly pulls out a bouquet of orchids and a set of keys. He hands me both with a wink. “I know how much you liked those demons’ bikes, love.”

Wait. “You got me a motorcycle?” I blink, looking around for it.

“You got her a fucking motorcycle?” Everett repeats. My elemental is already a hair away from panicking, looking like he’s envisioning my brains smeared on a back road. “She doesn’t even have a license yet.”

“Which is why the bike is still in our garage in the Nether,” Crypt shrugs, looking back at me to grin. “It’s got a skull on it.”

“I love it already,” I grin.

Everett holds up a hand. “You have to get a license before touching it. And take a motorcycle safety course. And always wear a helmet and protective gear and?—“

“I’m a demigoddess. I think I can handle a motorcycle.”

“Hopefully better than you handle driving a car,” Crypt teases, earning a swat on the arm from me.

I love all the presents they gave me, but if they’re done, it’s my turn. Reaching into the pocket void, I rummage around and pull out the first gift, setting it in front of Baelfire. It’s badly wrapped, since I apparently have no fucking idea how to use wrapping paper, but he blinks at it in surprise.

“What is this?”

“For you. I missed getting you guys presents last Starfall, so I decided to get twice the amount this year,” I shrug, setting the next poorly-wrapped gift in front of Crypt.

“You don’t owe us gifts,” Silas protests, prodding the box I set in front of him. “That was a year ago, sanfluir.

“

“So? Let me have this.”

Crypt isn’t putting up a fight as his curiosity wins out, and soon he’s unwrapped the black leather jacket I carefully picked out for him. He grins at me. “You know my wardrobe well, I see.”

“It’s enchanted,” I clarify. “I sent it to the Garnet Wizard asking him to make it repair itself so you won’t have to keep buying new ones every other week.”

He slips out of his old one and into the new. “Right. Because I was buying them,” he winks. “I love it, darling.”

Baelfire quickly unwraps his gift and lights up when he sees the nice camera. I asked Kenzie for help picking out a good one, and he’s already turning it on. “Fuck, this is nice.”

“I took a few pictures on it already,” I add innocently.

“Really?” he asks, holding it up to see past photos. “I’d love to see what you—oh, fuck.

Fuck me, that’s so damn hot.”

“Wait, are they nudes?” Crypt demands, trying to grab the camera from Baelfire. “Let me see.”

“Fuck off, these are mine,” Baelfire grins, shoving the incubus away before switching to the next one and groaning. “I knew you’d look good in leather.”

“Okay, we’re all going to see those photos at some point. Right?” Everett demands, looking at me hopefully.

I laugh and tell Silas to unwrap his next. He does, and pulls out several thick-ass tomes written in the ancient fae. He skims the covers and looks at me in surprise. “These are…?”

“Grimoires that are thousands of years old. Felix found a few of them and happened to tell me about it first. You’ll have to translate them to new fae from ancient fae, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I truly don’t,” he smiles, already browsing the first dusty grimoire like an excited child on Starfall morning.

“Nerd,” Baelfire snorts.

Finally, I turn to Everett and pull his gift out of my pocket void, handing him the papers carefully.

He realizes what he’s looking at and goes still. “You…it’s fully translated.”

“I know holy tongue now, so you’ll know the truth about the prophecy you were given as a kid.”

Everett swallows hard as he squints at the page to read it without his glasses.

I already have the lines memorized.

Favored of Raan, ye walk alone,

Divine blood binds thine fate unknown,

Ye telum-bound, cursed, long misled,

Vice of ice and thine keeper dead,

Yet death’s child returns, ichor crowned,

Lost heart to bind, five fates bound.

My beautiful, scarred ice elemental looks at me, relief and surprise on his face. I think he’s surprised how harmless the prophecy was all along—just a statement of what would happen, and of course as obnoxiously rhymey as anything else written in the holy tongue.

Everett kisses me, pocketing the prophecy with a raspy voice. “Thank you.”

The party goes on as Quinn announces it’s time for me to unwrap the rest of the gifts they brought. With my quintet at my side and people I care about all around me, I remind myself once again of my new mantras.

I’m alive. I deserve to be happy. I choose my own fate, and it will always be them.

—-The End

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