Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“You think that dagger is Maven’s?”
“Who cares if it is?” I snap. “Look, maybe one of the anti-legacy cultists who raised her picked up the dagger in the Divide or something. It doesn’t matter.”
Silas glares at me. “Yes, it does. If Maven’s weapon is from the Nether, she’s on a mysterious mission, and she doesn’t have a godsdamned heartbeat
…”
I stare at him long and hard. “What the fuck are you saying?”
“You know exactly what I’m saying.”
Everett stares down at Maven again, his voice barely audible even by my standards. “Do you remember, years ago, when several humans were put to death by the Legacy Council?”
That had been huge news in the world of legacies because they kept why they did that classified. Even I heard about it and I was eight.
“Yeah, so? I don’t see what that has to do with?—“
“It was because they claimed the Nether was taking in humans and keeping them alive.”
He looks between the three of us meaningfully, and even Crypt frowns.
Immediately, I shake my head. “No. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Maven manifested as a caster a few weeks ago, and she’s part of some kind of anti-legacy cult. She told us that herself.”
Silas pins me with a look. “Did she, though? She never said it outright.”
I open my mouth to argue and then hesitate, realizing he’s right.
“Damn it. She was just trying to deter us again,” Everett murmurs. “That’s all she’s tried to do since we met her. I should’ve figured that out sooner.”
I’m still shaking my head in denial, but then certain things click into place. Maven being so technologically impaired. Her delight in anything macabre. The way she had stared wide-eyed at everything in that cozy little town in Pennsylvania like it was from an alien planet. How hell-bent she has been on pushing her matches away, trying to get us to appeal for another keeper, insisting that she was all wrong for us.
The momentary confusion that had been on her face when Crypt had asked if she was part of the anti-legacy movement, right before she nodded.
You guys have no fucking idea how bad it would be to be bound to me. I’m protecting you idiots.
I refuse to drag you four down with me.
I’m your enemy.
All her past words swim in my head until I cover my face. “Holy shit.”
My mate is from the Nether.
EVERETT
Baelfire, Silas, and Crypt stare at Maven as they think. But I can’t think. In fact, I can barely get my voice to work as I glance at the prophetess, the dread and guilt eating me alive.
“You managed to heal her. Thank you. But…can you tell me what was wrong with her?”
I already know this was my fault, but I still have to ask. It’s like I just need that extra stab of self-loathing to convince myself to get the hell out of this room and stay as far away from Maven as I can until graduation.
Dear gods, I should have stuck to the plan and kept my distance from her at the Matched Ball—but the moment I’d seen her hand on that siren, all bets were off.
Now, here we are, with my curse rearing its ugly head. I should have been stronger. She deserves so much better. I can’t fucking stand myself.
Pia’s head tilts toward me. Her voice is unexpectedly warm and gentle. “This was not your fault, nor was it your curse’s. Be kinder to yourself.”
I flinch when her words unintentionally make three pairs of eyes swing in our direction, and then Baelfire frowns. “What is she talking about? Why would this be your curse’s fault?”
“It’s nothing.”
Crypt is watching me too closely, as if he’s putting something together, so I change the topic quickly, once again addressing the white-shrouded prophetess.
“But how did she survive if she came from the Nether?” I ask. “Unless…”
Oh, dear gods. Maybe she didn’t. Silas said she’d had no heartbeat. She could be…
“Unless what?” Pia asks.
Unless she’s one of the Undead.
I can’t bring myself to say it out loud because it’s so damn outlandish. I’ve been exposed to hundreds of pictures of the Undead, and they’re revolting creatures that look absolutely nothing like Maven.
But then, it’s also outlandish that she could possibly be from the Nether. No living thing can survive there.
Silas adjusts Maven’s hair away from her face, his brow furrowed deeply. Then he faces Pia with determination. “You can read people. Tell us what you read about our keeper.”
Of course, he has no problem demanding answers from a prophetess. He’s a blasphemous asshole.
She’s quiet for a moment before sighing. “It is true. I am blessed with the ability to see nearly anything in this mortal realm. Thoughts, feelings, memories, truths… But there are places of darkness that even Galene cannot see. Places that have been claimed by the Nether. It consumes everything it touches and turns it all to shadow, just as it has done to your keeper’s heart.”
Crypt’s attention snaps to Pia. “Explain.”
“I can see only broken pieces of her past, all shrouded in darkness. But that degree of darkness only exists in the Nether, and it seems her heart still remains in that realm of death.”
…What?
“I’m confused. If Maven has no heart, then…how is she alive?” I ask.
Looking like his mind is a thousand miles away, Silas murmurs, “Damn it. A shadow heart.”
Very unhelpful since I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.
“Hang on. If she’s from the Nether, is she still human?” Baelfire asks, looking equally out of his depth here.
Pia adjusts one of the white drapes hanging from her arms. Her voice is deeply sorrowful. “That is hard to say. I only know of her purpose and her blood oath.”
“Care to share?” I manage.
It sounds like the prophetess is smiling when she speaks. “If she ever wishes to share the true depth of her nobility with you, she will. But that will be her choice. Now, let her rest, and please dispose of the bodies before anyone else comes in.”
Pia’s head dips as if she is checking on Maven one more time, and then she leaves the room as sagely and silently as she entered. The door clicks shut softly behind her.
The silence is deafening. It stretches on far longer than it ever has between me and these three legacies as we watch Maven sleep deeply. Some of the color finally returns to her face. She’s so pretty it hurts my chest, and it’s difficult to breathe as I try to convince myself to leave the room now that I know she’s all right.
I can’t make myself leave her.
But I need to.
Fuck, I hate this.
“What happened?” Crypt finally rasps.
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.