Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“Bye, monk,” she snickers.
Tossing the device onto the oversized bed, I glance at the door. I’m tired, annoyingly affected by everything my matches do, and most importantly, I’m an assassin who can’t complete her mission with four gorgeous legacy stalkers breathing over my shoulder.
I’ll have to give them the slip eventually, but I can’t right now with the raging snowstorm.
And then there’s a growing part of me that just…doesn’t want to give them the slip.
It’s a bad idea to get close to them. I know that. I’m already on thin ice. If I let myself get attached to them any further, my thin facade will shatter, and everything I’ve been working towards will be ruined.
But even if I already know how my story will end, would it be so terrible to allow myself one day? One chapter of good memories in a book of darkness?
Probably.
But right now, I want it. And for the next twenty-four hours, I’m done pushing them away.
MAVEN
I step into the long, luxurious kitchen that gradually turns into an ornate dining room. One wall along all of it is solid glass. Maybe it normally has nice views, but right now it’s a dark gray obscuring everything outside.
In the middle of the dining room is a table already set for dinner with crystal glass and burning candles flickering happily along the length of it. As soon as I walk in, Baelfire lights up with a smile in my direction from where he’s tossing salad and…wearing an apron.
Who knew dragons could be domestic chefs? It’s an odd sight, yet at the same time, somehow it also makes sense that he’s comfortable in the kitchen.
Silas is on the phone in the dining room, facing the large window so I can’t see his face, and his voice is too quiet to hear what he’s saying. I can’t see Crypt, but I can sense him somewhere in this room.
Baelfire uses his bare hand to reach in and retrieve two trays. Must be nice, being a heat-and-fire-proof dragon shifter. He shows me the sizzling offerings with a bright smile.
“I hope you like your butter-basted pork chops well done.”
Damn. He’s so proud, I almost don’t want to pop his bubble.
Before I can decide whether or not to say something, Crypt appears leaning against the wall by the fridge and drawls, “She’s a vegetarian, you fucking buffoon.”
Bael blinks. I can practically see the last few days rewinding in his head as he no doubt recalls all the times he piled food on my plate—usually meats I never touched. I didn’t expect them to notice or care, but evidently, Crypt takes his stalking seriously.
“Shit. How did I miss that?” Baelfire grimaces and sets down the pans. “Is it because you have a soft spot for poor little animals? Because if so, I have some bad news. I hunt to kill, Maven. Like…a lot.
So if you’re one of those bleeding heart types…”
A morbid smile tries to pull on my mouth. “Nope. No bleeding hearts here.”
His gaze snaps to my mouth. “I saw that. You just smiled.”
“Barely.”
“Still counts as getting you to smile.”
I roll my eyes. “Want a gold star?”
His eyes heat and he rounds the counter to lean close without touching me, dropping his voice to a whisper that even Crypt won’t hear.
“No. I want your praise. And just like you said, I’m going to fucking earn it.”
Something greedy and curious pools low in my stomach at his hungry rasp. My eyes shift to Crypt leaning against the wall, and I expect to see him glaring at Baelfire, but when he catches me looking, he winks.
Why isn’t he jealous? I would be. If I saw someone else with one of them like this…no matter how illogical it would be, or how not mine they are, I would be snapping more bones.
Wondering how far I can push it, I try not to think about what I’m doing and hold Crypt’s stare as I stand on my tiptoes, pressing my lips against the corner of Baelfire’s jaw under his ear. Bael exhales raggedly and cages me against the counter with his arms, still careful not to touch me.
But the Nightmare Prince doesn’t look away as he smiles slowly at me, amused. “Taunting me, love? You should probably know I very much enjoy that. Edging. Teasing. The torment is delicious.”
Well, then. That backfired.
“Maven…can I please touch you now?” Bael whispers.
Gods. He’s so damn warm standing so close to me, and suddenly I’m having trouble thinking clearly, with these two looking at me like
I’m the only dinner they want. But my lips are tingling from where they touched Bael, and suddenly I have to think about anything besides the fact that I just had his warm, bare skin against mine.
Not for the first time, I’m irritated at my inability to stomach physical contact. I don’t enjoy being like this—the terror of feeling skin against mine, the familiar paralyzing sensation creeping up my spine and wrapping around my throat until I can’t breathe. But even if I logically know that touching someone else isn’t the end of the world, my body doesn’t get the memo.
I’m a testament to how strong conditioning can be.
Even if I want to try touching them…I don’t know how.
Baelfire sees the battle on my face and backs off immediately, smiling reassuringly as he opens the very overstocked fridge. “So, pork is a no. Are you good with cheese? Do you like pasta?”
I didn’t expect him to drop the subject. The fact that Crypt says nothing about it either is oddly comforting—as if despite the fact that they refuse to leave me alone, they aren’t going to pry into anything that makes me genuinely uncomfortable.
They’re not pushing me.
I watch Baelfire dice and sauté garlic, prepare other vegetables, and move through the kitchen with ease. I would offer to help, but I’ve never cooked a day in my life and even though I’m trying to hide it, the exhaustion from my recent episode is weighing on me.
Silas finishes his phone call and moves into the kitchen, focus trained on me. Something is different about the way he studies me, almost as if he knows something I don’t and he enjoys it. That has me slipping back into a poker face in case he actually has figured something out about who and what I really am.
“Is Frost’s tongue stuck to a frozen pole or something? What’s taking him so long?” Bael asks, carefully plating a pile of cheesy pasta food that actually makes my stomach growl. The shifter hears that and grins at me. “
Bon appétit, Boo.”
“He’ll arrive any moment,” Silas replies, finally looking away from me as he and Baelfire get their own food and we move to the dining room.
Everett walks in a moment later, snowflakes dusted on the shoulders of his dark, photoshoot-worthy winter clothes and lingering on his skin, since it’s not warm enough to melt them. The professor’s gaze barely flits to me with an undertone of sheer boredom before he begins dishing up his own food.
Maybe he’s annoyed with me for openly “flirting” with him at every chance even though he never agreed to help me make the others jealous. Or maybe he’s just tired of putting up with my antics around him because he’s dropped any semblance of enjoying my attention in front of the others.
I usually choose to be amused whenever people don’t like me. It happens often, and there’s something morbidly entertaining about rubbing someone else the wrong way.
But for some reason, the idea of him genuinely disliking me is…unpleasant.
Baelfire has been watching my face and his glare snaps to the ice elemental as a snarl builds in his throat. “You’re not even going to fucking greet your own keeper? What the hell is wrong with you? You’re the only one she likes and you’re hurting her feelings, so get your head out of your frozen ass and?—“
“Drop it,” I cut in firmly. “My feelings are fine.”
“Don’t fucking tell me you’re fine,” he snaps. “I just saw you wince.”
I did? Oops.
Since it’s clear Baelfire is getting shifter-level angry, I offer him a distraction as I twirl pasta around my fork. “Maybe I was just reacting to the sizzling hot meat buffet in front of me. And I’m not talking about the pork chops.”
That does the trick. He fumbles his own fork, blinking at me. “Did you just…
flirt
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.