Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Fuck. No.
My condition rearing its ugly head right now is literally the worst possible scenario.
This is bad. Genuinely fucking bad because there will be no escape from their questions if they see me like this, and they might figure it all out. Then I’d be stuck in this inn with four powerful legacies trying to kill me.
Typically, that would sound fun, but I really don’t have time for this. I have to deliver an alpha wolf shifter’s heart to a demon by midnight tomorrow.
Stay calm. Breathe through the pain.
“All of you, get out,” I tell them. “Now.”
Silas’s gaze sharpens, and he edges closer, too. But when he speaks, his voice is unbearably gentle. “What’s wrong, ima sangfluir?”
My blood blossom.
The damn man is giving me a nickname in his native tongue, one that holds too much meaning for a blood fae. Surely, they can’t all have nicknames for me. That’s just obnoxious.
The pain starts to mount. I need them out of here now. Putting on my bitchiest tone of voice, I roll my eyes. “What’s wrong is that I’m allergic to pushy assholes who can’t take a fucking hint. All I want is for you guys to leave me alone.”
Suddenly, Silas is directly in front of me, leaning down so I can’t turn away from his penetrating gaze. It’s a wonder I’m not breaking out in a sweat, trying to keep the pain off my face. He’s inches away, and I catch a light hint of bourbon and spice standing this close to him.
“What part of
I reject your lies didn’t you get? No more lying to me. Tell me what the real problem is so I can fix it,” he commands, searching my face.
It doesn’t help that Baelfire is on my other side, frowning deeply as he glances between the blood fae and myself. I think he’s debating shoving Silas away, but he also wants to hear my answer.
But Silas can’t fix what’s wrong with me. No one can. I accepted that years ago.
Inhaling and exhaling evenly, I keep my poker face even though my chest really fucking hurts. “I’m over this, Silas. I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Nothing less than everything. But to start, I want a chance to get to know you, the real you. Give all of us, including yourself, a sample of what our quintet could be. Give us one day before we…consider our options.”
Wait. Is he admitting that they’re finally considering appealing for another keeper? Something unpleasant constricts my throat unexpectedly, but I ignore it just as much as I ignore the pain flaring in my chest. His words sink in deeper than I should let them go.
Letting them get to know the real me…
He has no idea what he’s even asking.
The real me was broken years ago from the torture, isolation, and darkness. The real me is fucked in the head. Twisted. A monster who enjoys things I shouldn’t.
But one day of not actively trying to make them hate me? Just letting go and being myself? It’s too tempting. I’m so damn tired of rejecting them when deep down, no matter how wrong it is…
I want them.
You’ve always wanted them, you weakling.
The agony doubles in my chest, and I lace my fingers behind my back so they can’t see me dig my nails into my flesh, desperate for anything to focus on but the torture in my torso. I just need them out of here. They can’t see me like this. I’ll agree to anything that gives me some privacy for a moment to let this episode pass.
“Fine,” I say quickly. “You have one day with me.”
Crypt suddenly appears to Baelfire’s right, purple eyes glittering. “Pinky swear?”
“We’re not leaving until you promise,” Silas tacks on, eyes searing.
Gods, why are they making this so impossible? “I promise.”
His lips curl up, and to my horror, I briefly get the urge to brush my lips against his mouth to see what that devious smirk feels like.
You’re not thinking straight. That’s just the pain talking.
“Hell fucking yes,” Baelfire says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them conspiratorially. “Si, tell Snowflake to get back here. Maven, dinner will be?—“
“Get. The fuck. Out,” I grit, vision starting to blur despite how unreadable I’ve kept my face.
For the first time in my life, the gods seem to take mercy on me because Baelfire and Silas share a look I don’t fully understand and leave. Crypt blows me a kiss and vanishes, but it’s another few moments before I feel his presence leave.
The moment I know I’m really alone, I shut the door, lock it, and fall to my knees, slamming a hand over my mouth to desperately try holding a whimper of pain back because Baelfire might hear it.
Nausea barrels through me while the corners of my vision darken and fold. It takes all my strength to crawl to the desk where my bag sits. Desperately, I pull one of the dark vials I packed from the bottom of the bag and uncork it, downing it in one go.
Immediately, cold sweeps through me, and the darkness takes me away.
Images flicker through my mind. Most of them are too fast to register, but one of them sticks: A scene of me laying flat on my back, dark blood pooling on the tiled floor beneath me as a knife protrudes from my chest. A shadow stands over me, but I jolt awake before I can figure out who it is.
It seems only a few minutes have passed—the blizzard is still raging outside the bedroom window, the vial is still clutched in my hand, and I’m freezing where I lay coated in a cold sweat on the floor.
Giving myself a few moments to let the churning in my stomach subside, I groan softly and try to sit up. Something buzzes nearby, and when I realize it’s not just a sound I’m hallucinating after that episode, I dig through the upended contents of my bag to squint at my phone.
Sighing, I answer. “Hi.”
“Hey! Did you guys make it to Pennsylvania all right?” Kenzie asks. “And did you check the weather forecast before you left? Because I just heard that there’s a massive snowstorm over there. It’s supposed to get, like, really bad. Luka says?—“
“Luka?” I cut in with a frown, still out of sorts.
She makes a sound halfway between a hum and a sigh. “Well…yeah. I know you said I was protecting myself by not letting him into the quintet too quickly, but over the last few days, he’s been really nice. And I mean nice, nice. It’s not fake. He’s opened up a lot about some pretty terrible shit in his past that made him react the way he did to me, and he’s trying to get to know me. We’ve had some long talks, and I think?—“
As she talks, I stagger into the bathroom to splash my face with cold water, grimacing at how sallow my skin looks in the mirror. I look almost as exhausted as I feel.
“—and we all talked about our plans for the Matched Ball with him, and it was a good step in the right direction, so…gods, listen to me drag on. Back to what I was calling about. Are you and your guys safe and sound somewhere?”
“Until we ride out this storm,” I grumble.
“I bet that’s not the only thing you’ll be riding. Good luck getting snowed in somewhere with nothing but four very horny, obsessed men to entertain you,” she teases brightly. “Either you guys are going to play a crazy amount of Go Fish, or you’re going to lose your virginity in every possible way multiple times.”
I roll my eyes as I exit the bathroom. “Not happening. I’m still not going to be in a quintet.”
“But why not?”
“Go fish.”
Kenzie sighs. “Okay, well…maybe you won’t be in their quintet, but you deserve to enjoy yourself for once. Let your guard down, let them actually get to know you, and maybe you’ll see how perfect you all will be together. Seriously, May. Promise me you’ll enjoy yourself and give them a chance.”
I look at my gloved hand, flexing against the leather. “I promise.”
And even if it will hurt like hell later, I mean that.
“And remember to use lots and lots of lube,” she adds. “Especially if you do back door stuff.”
Oh, my gods. “
Bye, slut.”
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.