Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Like right now.
Raising my hands, I whisper a common magic spell that sets fire to the potted plants. They steam and shrivel, dead within seconds as the room fills with the scent of burnt herbs. Grabbing the dagger, I make a long, diagonal slice through the palm of my left hand. I keep my voice to a barely audible whisper since Crypt is probably still lurking outside my dorm room, and he’s already overheard me through the door once.
“Obsecro te pro anima huius sanguinis.”
As I speak, the room darkens, chilling around me as the bitter tang that always accompanies necromancy fills my mouth. Of the three kinds of magic I can tap into, this is the most taxing—because only necromancers are supposed to be able to wield it.
I’m not a necromancer.
But apparently, all the rituals I had to go through to become this changed me in ways they never expected.
I chant the words again as I hold my stinging hand over the bowl, feeling a macabre thrill as I watch my blood splatter over the tendrils of the bright orange feather. Adding the onyx dust, hair, and hag’s root, I whisper the forbidden words again to complete the illegal life-force-searching spell.
Malicious, lifeless power pulses through my body and swirls around the bowl in the form of black smoke. All color leeches away from everything in the bowl before the phoenix feather bursts into green fire.
I exhale a harsh breath and squeeze my eyes shut, ready to collapse from how taxing that spell was…but also from pure relief.
Alive.
The feather catching fire means Kenzie is still alive. Now I just have to find her.
And to do that, I’m going to find that godsdamned changeling and show it just how much it should not have fucked with someone I happen to care about.
The green fire fizzles out, and I glance down at my fingertips, which are now blackened and numbed from the necromancy. The cut on my hand is still bleeding, but I make no move to wrap it because the weight of that ritual presses on my chest like a frozen anvil. I overextended myself, and now my eyes can barely stay open.
But it was worth it. Now I know Kenzie is still alive somewhere.
Pulling myself onto my bed, I instantly pass into a fatigued sleep so deep that it’s almost dreamless.
Almost.
The nightmares still catch up to me, and in the end, I’m trapped in their grasp, reliving old fears and past traumas that claw me to tatters.
When I finally startle awake, trying to catch my breath, my muscles are wired, and cold sweat is beaded on my forehead. I sit up, needing to work off this tension but grimacing at my burnt, scabbed hands. I don’t have enough magic to try healing myself right now—not to mention the spell I’ll need to use to track down the changeling.
I need to refuel my magic soon.
Dragging myself from the bed to peek out one curtain, I realize I’ve slept for hours, and it’s only a short time until the Matched Ball. From everything Kenzie told me about the Matched Ball, it’s an excuse for quintets to dress up and show off their gods-given groups for the first time. The dance will no doubt involve posturing, preening, alcohol, small talk, and copious amounts of PDA.
I would rather peel off my own eyelids than attend.
But I hesitate, glancing at the pink bag sitting on my desk. Kenzie was beyond excited about this frivolous activity. She likely would have dragged me along and made me try the punch or whatever shit they’ll serve. She would’ve tried to make me dance, too. It would have been pure fucking torture.
What a shame to miss out on that.
Plus, the Immortal Quintet will be there, so I’ll have my first chance to analyze my targets and decide which to take out next. If the changeling is still on Everbound’s premises, trapped here like the rest of us—which I hope is the case—then it might attend the mandatory dance to blend in. I can hunt it down to get answers and revenge.
Maybe I should go.
Except my matches will also be there.
The idea of facing them again has me kicking myself for flashing them before I left earlier. I only did it to stop Silas from saying anything else that would affect me. I’ve been unable to keep my emotions in check ever since I revived. Either nightshade root powder has emotion-enhancing properties I’ve never heard of, or all the years I’ve spent shoving down how I feel is coming back to bite me in the ass at the most inopportune time.
In an ideal world, I would have been long gone by now, which theoretically would have made getting over them easier. But if I’m stuck here, where the Immortal Quintet might sniff me out, then my top priority is blending in with the other legacies for now.
Which means…playing along with my so-called quintet.
Fine. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to play nicely.
With a sigh, I reach into the pink bag and pull out the dress Kenzie believed would be perfect for me.
Oh, damn.
She was right. This is very me.
The dress is a gossamer black masterpiece, lightweight with a halter top that ties behind the neck and looks like a lace choker. The skirt is layers of shredded tulle ending in fluttering tendrils beneath a corset-like midsection. It’s backless, but I’m relieved that the halter top means it will cover the center of my chest where my scar is.
I run my hands over the fabric, enchanted by its dark beauty. Rechecking the bag, I also find two black lace opera gloves, long enough to reach past my elbows. They’ll hide my blackened fingertips and scab until I get the chance to heal myself later.
“So annoyingly thoughtful,” I murmur, shaking my head.
Once I find Kenzie, I’ll find a way to repay her for such a melancholically perfect gift.
But for now…
My so-called quintet has fucked with my head enough. It’s time to settle the score.
MAVEN
When I step outside my dorm, Crypt is leaning against the wall beside my door, perfectly visible in the mortal realm in his regular attire. As soon as he sees me, he straightens. The last rays of sunset streaming through the windows across the hallway catch on the piercings in his ears and brow. His silver-flecked purple irises bore into mine, filled with a host of emotions so consuming that, for a moment, I can only stare back at him, transfixed.
“You look like pure sin,” he whispers, drinking me in slowly. “And I’ve always loved sinning, darling.”
Some horribly inconvenient part of me melts hearing the marvel in his voice. It’s nice to hear after putting in the effort. I even put on a tiny bit of the makeup that Kenzie insisted on buying me when I first came here. I’ve never worn makeup before, but I watched Kenzie apply it on herself often enough that I just mimicked her methods.
I finally look away from Crypt, glancing down at two corpses on the floor beside him. They’re dressed nicely as if they were on their way to the dance, but it looks like a wild animal got to them.
Their dress and suit are soaked in blood, and their eyeballs have been scratched out.
Kenzie told me that most guys bring fancy corsages for dances.
This is much more my style.
“They made the mistake of lingering outside your door for far too long.”
“So you mauled them?”
He’s still distracted by my appearance. “Hmm? No, love, they did that to each other. Took only the barest dose of mania on my part. I am sorry you missed the show, though.”
So am I. But I have a vendetta against my so-called matches tonight, so I feign disinterest.
“You clearly intend to continue stalking me.”
“For the rest of this life and into the Beyond, yes.”
For an incubus with a reputation for feeling nothing, he’s so melodramatic around me. But the fact that he’s here, shamelessly devouring me with his gaze, makes me wonder if his fascination with me was genuine after all.
I mean…he did try to keep Silas from healing me, just like I asked. And as far as I know, he hasn’t breathed a word to the others about my little reviving-from-death parlor trick.
If Crypt’s interest was real?—
No. It’s a moot point. All my original reasons for rejecting my quintet still stand, and I have more important things to focus on right now. Such as…
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.