Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“She’s a germaphobe,” Sierra says confidently, and fire flares to life in one of her hands. “Let’s see how well asscasters burn, huh?”
Fire.
Fuck.
I’m going to actually die.
Shit, shit, shit.
But I can’t even formulate a plan of how to stop this from happening because this asshole is still touching my face, and it makes it feel like every nerve in my body was just submerged in acid.
Stop touching me.
“Not so fast,” the douchebag holding my face grins, showing off his fangs. A vampire. I should’ve guessed. My track record with vampires is abysmal. “I wanna see her cry.”
“You always like to play with your food,” the other guy grumbles.
Sierra beams. “No, Jace is right. This fucking bitch cheated in a fight just to take a cheap shot at me and stole my entire future from me. She deserves to suffer for everything she put me through, and I know how to make that happen. Get her gloves off.”
My stomach careens. Once again, I try to move, but I’m completely locked in place by the spell the blond caster must have thrown at me. Jace, the fucking prick, grins with excitement…and his other hand slips up under my shirt to caress my stomach.
I’m going to puke.
Panic is now beating in my veins so hard that I start to acutely disassociate before I can feel them stripping my gloves off me, cackling as they rip up grass and dirt to shove in the “germaphobe’s” mouth. But even though I try to check out as fast as possible, I can still feel when Sierra laughs and spits on my face.
And when the blond caster licks my neck, laughing uproariously.
The vampire’s hands are on my arms, my face, my throat…
Disassociating isn’t working, and hot tears start to gather in my eyes as bile crawls up my throat. I can’t move to puke, so I might choke on it. I hope I do so I don’t have to feel their skin on mine anymore.
Stop fucking touching me. Get away from me.
From the corner of my eye, I see the changeling approach. It’s no longer bleeding, so it must’ve been healing itself just now. Its fingers brush against my temple, and a sharp, painful surge of memories rises to the surface, drowning out everything else and forcing me to relive the hell that conditioned me to hate all of this so much.
I can see it all again—myself at eleven years old, screaming and crying as I pounded on the thick wooden door of a dungeon, so desperate to get away from the maggot-infested corpses surrounding me that I left bloodied handprints on the wood. I can feel the fucking maggots that wriggled against my skin, trying to get inside to eat me alive from the inside out.
Then I see myself at fourteen, biting down hard on a strip of fabric so my teeth wouldn’t break from clenching them in pain. But it wasn’t enough to muffle my screaming as another one of the necromancers’ never-ending, agonizing rituals seared through every muscle.
And finally, I see my own tear-streaked face when I was seventeen, reflected in whiteless black eyes as my heart was ripped out.
This one is not to be touched. She will be my masterpiece, Dagon’s oily voice echoes in my head from so long ago.
If anyone lays a finger on her, tear them to shreds and send her back to me for conditioning.
She must learn that she is nothing more and nothing less than what we make her. I will ensure she becomes the telum.
Telum.
Scourge.
It’s true. That’s what I am. I’m the scourge—a living weapon. And I’ve been through shit that these three assholes can’t even fucking imagine. They never would have survived a single day of my life in the Nether, so why am I holding back?
I snap back to myself as the changeling draws away with a smirk. I can tell it ate no memories, but it’s smug that it got inside my head. It probably saw far more memories than I just re-experienced.
But right now, I don’t give a fuck what it saw.
Their hands are still on me as Sierra mocks me, the blond one laughing as he rubs dirt on my face. They’re preying on my trauma, enjoying my tears and horror. My panic hasn’t subsided, but now it’s just white noise as I draw energy out of the grass beneath me and give in to the life-devouring magic that flows through me.
Dark magic explodes out from all around me, finally shattering the paralysis spell. A shrill scream cuts short as Sierra slams into one of the nearby rocks and goes motionless. But I know she’s not dead yet because I don’t get the familiar buzz.
I want that buzz.
Letting my temper and the bloodthirst thrumming in my veins take the lead, I grip the blond caster by the throat to fling him aside. Jace yelps in alarm and tries to back away, but I’m already on my feet as I stalk toward him, spitting out the taste of grass and dirt and enjoying the shocked terror on his face.
“Calm down! Look, I could’ve killed you just now, but I spared you, so you should?—“
“What? Repay the favor?” I ask innocently, letting my lips curl into the sick smile that used to make even Lillian flinch. “Don’t worry, I will.”
He tries to dart away using his vampiric speed, but I move faster than he thinks I can. Immediately, I have him pinned to the ground as the boiling rush of hatred and lingering horror pumps through my limbs.
They touched me. Mocked me. Fucking licked me.
I’m sure this vampire would have done far worse if I had never broken out of that spell, which only increases the turbulence in my stomach. I’m either going to throw up or kill him.
Either way, I want him to suffer first.
I’m so far gone that I don’t hesitate to draw more life from the grass beneath Jace’s back, and then I dig my fingertips through his shirt into his chest and unleash a flare of power. He jolts and lets out a bloodcurdling scream so shrill that his voice gives out, his limbs twitching and spasming.
Music to my ears.
I do it again. And again. And I enjoy every second of it. Every scream and sob fills me with a sick, intoxicating thrill.
I may be fucked in the head now, but I didn’t always enjoy killing. Actually, taking an innocent life is something I avoid at all costs. Even surrounded by the horrors I was raised with that would rip me to shreds if I showed weakness, I drew the line at killing anyone who didn’t truly deserve it.
This one? He deserves it.
I pause for a moment to relish the agony on the vampire’s face as he chokes on his own tears and snot. “W—what the f—fuck are you?” he sobs, too weak to push me off of him as his eyes flutter and roll helplessly.
“I’m what happens when the Undead experiment on the living.”
His next scream is particularly satisfying as I force more lethal magic into his system. But finally, the fever pitch of fury starts to die in my head. The inescapable yearning to kill and maim and fuel my magic with death lulls. I’m abruptly dizzy as I pull my gloveless fingers out of his chest and glance around the small clearing.
The blond caster and the changeling are nowhere to be seen, and Sierra is still out cold. Part of me is tempted to end her life, too—to end all of their pathetic lives. It would be so fucking easy.
I was made for this. For death.
But as usual, when I’m on the verge of losing myself, Lillian’s gentle voice is like the brush of a feather inside my mind.
Death is not your destiny. Everything you have gone through gives you a choice—the ultimate choice. Whenever you think of ending a life, remember how hard you have fought for your own. It’s too precious to destroy so heartlessly. Rein it in, Little Raven.
Rein it in. Right. I should do that.
I finally shake off the last of the killing rage. But Jace is no longer breathing, his eyes frozen open as a fresh wave of buzzing magic lights up my entire system.
Oops.
Oh, well. Like I said, this dick deserved it.
I get to my feet and stumble away, my boots crunching over the now-lifeless grass. Nearby trees are equally drained. As I lean over to pick up the gloves they stripped off of me, another flare of nausea hits me hard, and I drop to my knees to heave until I have nothing left. My nerves are still burning, and it feels like my skin is crawling with thousands of invisible maggots, biting and burrowing little bodies.
I would give anything to fix how my body reacts like this.
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.