Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“As in, you’re finally admitting we’re a quintet?” Baelfire jumps in to clarify, hopeful excitement brightening his face and bringing out his blinding smile. “You’ll forgive us for acting like a bunch of stupid, immature fledglings and be our keeper?”
I need to blend in with the rest of the students here at Everbound. If that means training and taking classes with the four legacies who made me feel incredible right before they made me feel like shit, I’ll endure it.
But I need to draw some hard boundaries first.
“Forgive, no. But I’ll be your platonic keeper. For now.”
Baelfire’s face falls. “Come on, Boo-tiful?—“
Boo-tiful? Okay, fuck no. Time to nip that one in the bud.
I hold up a hand to cut him off. “I’m vetoing that nickname.”
“Okay, Boo?—“
“That one is out now, too. In fact, don’t give me any fucking nicknames. Including any in fae,” I add, glaring at Silas.
His ruby gaze narrows. “Speaking of which, how are you so fluent in fae? Even your accent is impressive.”
Lillian was once married to a fae, and their language was all she spoke for years before I met her. When I was growing up, she was the only living person I saw for weeks on end. She tried to help ease my isolation by telling me all about her past fae family, sharing their culture, and teaching me their language. We spoke English and fae interchangeably.
But Silas doesn’t need to know that or anything else about me, so I offer no answer. “Back to the topic at hand. Combat.”
“No, the topic at hand is the fact that you think we’ll be fucking platonic,” Baelfire grits out. “No way in hell is that happening.”
“Lots of quintets are platonic.”
“Not ours. You’re my mate. I won’t accept platonic anything with you.”
I look heavenward, wondering if the gods are enjoying this shitshow they’re putting me through. They’re probably all laughing their godly asses off.
“For the last time, I am not your mate.”
He growls and grasps my arm, pulling me closer to him and ignoring Silas’s warning scowl. There’s a wild, animalistic gleam in Baelfire’s golden eyes that I’ve never seen before.
“Yes, you are. You’re mine, and I’m yours—end of the motherfucking story. The end. Get over it.”
Excuse me?
I yank my arm away and give him my finely tuned death stare, slipping into the lethal tone I rarely have to use.
“Rephrase that.”
Baelfire’s glower softens. He blows out a breath and rubs his face. “Shit. I’m sorry. Fuck, I didn’t mean to be so…I’m just…”
“Manic?”
He grimaces. “My dragon is a Grade A alphahole, and he’s got one clawed hand on the wheel right now. Believe it or not, his temper is even worse than mine. Having you in this crowded-ass room without my mark or scent on you is already driving me up the wall—this is just making it worse. I am not getting fucking friend-zoned by my mate.”
“You’re not,” I agree. “Because we’re not friends. We’ll be work acquaintances.”
Silas pierces me with a stare. “I’ve been balls deep in your perfect pussy, and we’ve all heard the delicious little sounds you make when you come. This will be no acquaintanceship, not when we all crave you so ardently.”
Warmth prickles my neck and cheeks, but so does anger as I regard him. “Oh, I’m hardly what you were craving. Tell me, what prize did you win for being the first to screw me?”
“He’s not claiming any prize,” Baelfire says vehemently. “We’re dropping the?—“
“Dragon scales,” Silas concedes. “And access to Frost ledgers.”
Everett stiffens before glaring daggers at Silas. Baelfire looks equally put off. They each look as if they’re about to rip him a new asshole, but we’re interrupted by an all-male quintet approaching. All five of them have their heads held high as they face off with us, and the one I assume is their keeper greets us with a fake smile. His buzzed hair shows off his tiger-stripe-tattooed scalp.
“So this is the jackpot quintet, huh? I bet you guys will have the top ranking at the beginning since most of you are somewhat impressive.” He nods with something like respect to Baelfire before looking pointedly at me, his green eyes turning mocking. “But a quintet is only as strong as its keeper. So, as far as I’m concerned, I’m looking at the weakest quintet in this room. Watch out, Oakley. They can’t protect you forever.”
Baelfire snarls, but I hold up a hand to stop him as I hold the rival keeper’s glare, arching my brow.
“
Watch out? That’s all you’ve got? Let’s hope your bite is worse than your bark because that was pitiful. I’d feel embarrassed for you, but that would be a waste of my time. Run along, Stripes.”
Now he’s pissed as he bares his teeth and steps forward, but to my surprise, Everett also steps up until they’re nose-to-nose. I’ve never thought the professor seemed intimidating, but the penetrating stare-down he gives the other keeper has goosebumps prickling over my arms.
It’s the same kind of thousand-yard stare I acquired through years of terror and terrorizing. I wonder how he acquired his.
“Brooks,” one of the other quintet’s legacies hisses. “Let’s not get on this professor’s bad side. Come on.”
Stripes, who is apparently Brooks, casts me one last scowl before he and his posse move on. The moment they do, the tension left behind only grows.
“I’m not giving you a single fucking scale,” Baelfire snaps at Silas.
“And forget about the ledgers,” Everett adds. “My father would have you killed if he knew you even asked.”
“Who cares about your stupid father?” Baelfire huffs. “We’re not paying up because the bet was a bullshit idea from the beginning, and we’re dropping it. End of discussion.”
Silas scoffs. “Of course you’re bitter. Decimuses always have to be the best. You just can’t bear losing.”
“I didn’t lose. We were all in that bed.”
Yikes.
“And yet I was the only one in her. Like it or not, I won fair and square?—“
Okay, fuck this.
Deciding to ditch the four assholes who I was stupid enough to catch feelings for before getting stabbed through the chest with a dose of reality, I turn and march through the crowd of mingling, chattering legacies.
The hurt I’ve felt since learning about their wager to fuck me simmers under my skin. It’s irritating to know that all those stupid feelings I fought so hard were one-sided. They were only motivated to be with me for the sake of their fucking egos.
I want to repay how they made me feel. I want to punish them.
Reaching the relatively uncrowded bar, I glance around. The few legacies mingling here seem to be having a great time, though some eyeball me. When I notice a handsome, dark-skinned siren leaning against the bar, checking me out with a drink in his hand, I approach him.
I’ve never tried to flirt before. Sweeping my gaze over his tall form, I try to simulate Kenzie’s carefree, flirtatious smile. I’m pretty sure it looks deranged instead, but I’m working with what I’ve got.
“Hi.”
Yes, hi. That’s the best I have in this department.
How bleak.
But his face splits into a grin. In this dim lighting, I can just make out that his pupils are round, an assurance that he’s not the changeling I’m looking for.
“Damn, you’re hot tonight. I probably shouldn’t say that when you’ve got a quintet of your own panting after you, though, huh?”
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.