Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Baelfire pulls his hands away but doesn’t move back, consuming me with his eyes like he’s sure I’m about to vanish. He looks rougher than I’ve ever seen him—his T-shirt and jeans scorched and torn, his golden hair a mess, and dark circles under his eyes, which are a deeper shade of amber than usual. Blood is smeared on his hands and arms and continues to drip from Silas’s forgotten crystal, still embedded in his arm.
“Maven,” he pleads raggedly, scanning my face.
I forcefully keep it blank, even though my chest pangs. I have the most irksome urge to feel his warm arms wrapped tightly around me. My stupid, exhausted body can’t seem to remember that I’d hate it if he actually did touch me.
His hands twitch toward me again, but he clenches them at his sides. “Fuck, baby, I know you must be pissed, but please just let me?—“
I step around him. I need to leave before I have to face my emotions, which are bubbling to the surface, but Silas steps in front of me. His ruby-red eyes are now focused, but the blood fae looks as exhausted as I feel and even paler than usual.
“I tried everything. How is your pain suddenly gone?”
“It’s not.”
I’m not lying. It’s painful being around them like this.
Silas’s face softens. His gaze drops to my chest, where a hole torn by my dagger remains, but the only scar to be seen is the one I’ve had for five years.
“You had no heartbeat. I thought I lost you.”
You can’t lose what you never wanted in the first place.
“Heartbeats are overrated,” I mumble instead.
When I try to step around him, he only moves closer, determination and something unbearably tender bleeding into his expression. Seeing that bit of tenderness sparks my temper. From some angry, petty part of my mind, Sierra’s sneering face comes back to me along with her words.
They might even fuck you once or twice out of pity. But make no mistake, they’re not yours.
My anger deepens, overshadowing the lingering hurt until I decide I need to get out of this apartment really fucking soon before I do something stupid.
Silas’s voice is soft. “We should talk?—“
“There is no we.”
“Yes, there is,” he says firmly. “I know you’re upset?—“
“You four used me as a dick-measuring contest, and you think I’m upset? That’s cute.” I arch a brow. “You can’t lie, so tell me yes or no. Was there a bet about who would fuck me first?”
His mouth opens and closes twice in a row before he swallows. “Yes, but?—“
“And prizes for whoever won?”
“Yes, but that was not?—“
“Congratulations,” I make my voice sickly sweet. “You won. Now go find a new plaything to fuck. I’m sure Sierra would happily volunteer to entertain the two of you. Again.”
Baelfire flinches and snarls, “You were not a fucking plaything, and we are not touching anyone else. Ever. As far as I’m concerned, from now on, anyone who touches me is touching what belongs to you. We did make that stupid bet, but it was just a competition between rivals. We didn’t mean for you to?—“
“Find out?”
“Get hurt,” he corrects vehemently, golden eyes pleading. He looks miserable. “I take it all back. Screw that fucking bet, okay? It was just a juvenile game. We’re legacies, we’re competitive, and we were being stupid. None of us gives a shit about those prizes now, anyway.”
One glance at Silas tells me that’s absolutely false. He looks away.
The hurt doubles in my chest, but I keep my face impassive as I turn to face the front door.
“You can’t leave, sangfluir,
” Silas says quietly. “None of us can get out. The university is on lockdown.”
I pause, irritation welling up in my throat. Or is that emotion? Oh gods, it is. I have to get away from them as soon as fucking possible because I can’t seem to hide how I really feel around them anymore.
Steadying my voice, I ask, “Lockdown?”
“The headmaster was assassinated,” Baelfire says carefully as if he’s trying not to place meaning in the words, even though we all know they found me in the room with the dead mage. “We were barely able to get you out of there and wipe away all traces before the rest of the Immortal Quintet arrived. They’ve put all of Everbound University on a strict magical lockdown. No one can leave their dorms or apartments until further notice—except for the faculty, who are all being questioned as we speak. We’ve already been stuck in here for an entire fucking day and night. No one knows when they’ll let up.”
I process that without turning to face them. The Immortal Quintet is here?
How…convenient.
All my targets in one spot.
But it does complicate certain things. If we’re on magical lockdown, they must know that someone here killed their quintet member. And I’m positive I heard Everett’s voice in that office when they found me, which means he might tell them I was found in that room. I can’t think of a single reason he wouldn’t rat me out. After all, he heard my fake confession of being part of the anti-legacy movement.
I wonder how long I have until they realize the telum is here at Everbound. I need to come up with a new plan—one that will help me find Kenzie, kill the changeling, and pick off the rest of the Immortal Quintet one by one…
But my head is pounding, and my body feels sluggish from exhaustion. How aggravating. I’ve spent most of my life working my ass off to make my physical body into a honed weapon. I can’t afford to be tired, not with so much danger on the horizon.
Baelfire must sense that I’m frozen in anxiety-ridden exhaustion because he murmurs, “There’s no getting out right now, Boo. And I don’t know what fancy caster shit happened to get rid of that fucking poison, but you need more time to recover. I’ll make you food, and…we can talk about everything. All of us, all the cards on the table.”
Hard pass. No way in hell am I about to talk with these assholes about anything, now or ever. So instead of acknowledging anything he said, I grumble, “I need a damn shower,” and turn to leave the room.
But Silas’s hand wraps gently around my shoulder to stop me.
“Agree to talk to us first,” he demands.
Even though his touch is cautious, tension rackets up my spine. I’m too emotional right now, a dozen feelings warring inside me—especially hurt and anger.
I inhale slowly, trying to calm the angry hum in my veins. “No.”
“Maven—“
My nerves jolt when his touch slips down to my bare hand in an attempt to turn me to face them. It sets off everything I’m feeling, demolishing my lockbox of emotions and my typical level of control.
So when I knock Silas’s hand away, the sheer force that escapes my fingertips in a flare of dark tendrils takes all of us by surprise. He’s sent airborne, smashing into the dining room wall hard enough that everything hanging on it falls to the floor with a crash. He groans, gripping his broken arm with clenched teeth.
When his blood-red gaze flicks back to me, it’s filled with shock. His brow furrowed in both pain and confusion. My particular brand of magic hurts like hell, and he’s obviously never felt something like that.
Briefly, I’m puzzled about how I even had magic to lose control of, since the ordeal with Headmaster Hearst and the changeling completely drained my power. But one glance at the nearby cluster of potted plants shows me they’ve withered to nothing, dead and gone.
Damn it.
I didn’t mean to do that.
I deplore losing control.
It’s dead quiet before Baelfire murmurs, “Maven?”
He steps toward me, but I stare him down, ignoring the tired throb in my head.
“Leave. Me. Alone.”
But now that my emotions aren’t under a tight hold, my voice wobbles. I internally curse the gods when I realize moisture is threatening to escape my eyes. Seeing that makes Baelfire go perfectly still with horror, and he swears softly.
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.