Shadow Heart (Cursed Legacies, #2)

by Morgan B. Lee

"I don't want to watch the executions," I tell my birth mother quietly, watching the raindrops trailing down outside the window to my right.

"All that I have done, I did to rescue my daughter from the Nether. Seven years ago, she was stolen away by shadow fiends, and I have been doing everything possible to try to get her back⁠—"

"She's in pain. I'm healing her. Move." "She said no one. Lay a single finger on her, and I'll rip it off and shove it through your eyeball."

“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?”

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. “Boo…oh gods, please don’t cry or I’ll⁠—”

I've barely had time to down the potent but disgusting concoction before the Nightmare Prince flickers suddenly into existence beside me, grips me by the back of the neck, and slams my face into the cold marble countertop.

"That's for trapping me where I couldn't reach her. And this—" He jams his elbow into my broken shoulder, which makes my brain white out for a second as pain overwhelms everything else. "Is for forcing me to watch that happen a second fucking time."

Maven holds my gaze as a very clear show of fuck you as she slips into Baelfire's hoodie, which reaches all the way down to her knees. She adjusts her hair, slips into her boots without bothering to lace them up, and brushes past three extremely aroused, stunned legacies before slamming the front door behind her.

It's quiet for one beat before Baelfire rubs his face. “Holy fuck. She knows how to shut us up."

"You got a reason for being here? If it's to lift that damn hex you put on my dick, don't bother. The healers finally got rid of it, so fuck you very much."

"You look like pure sin," he whispers, drinking me in slowly. "And I've always loved sinning, darling."

"You clearly intend to continue stalking me." "For the rest of this life and into the Beyond, yes."

Crypt tips his head. "Your dagger?" "The one you pulled out of my chest." That casts a menacing darkness into his expression. "That was your dagger, buried in your heart? Tell me who put it there." "It doesn't matter. Just tell me where it⁠—" "Doesn't matter?"

The Nightmare Prince vanishes for a fraction of a second. When he reappears, he's so near that I press back against the door to put space between us. But that's precisely what Crypt wanted, and he braces his hands on either side of me, so now I'm trapped looking up at him.

Crypt leans back down and whispers near my ear, his breath caressing my neck and sending a delicious shiver down my spine that I try to hide. "All right. Keep your secrets. Just promise to keep me, too."

"If you value your testicles, step away from me." His mouth twists up into a wistful yet flirtatious smile. "Now, darling. We both know you wouldn't dare hurt your chances of having little nightmares running around the house one day."

Just as I realize I no longer sense Crypt's invisible presence, the sound of glass shattering nearby draws my attention. Flutters break out in my stomach when I turn and make eye contact with two of my matches, both of them staring open-mouthed at me.

“Thu mi le d’chal lei fhuil, ima sangfluir," he murmurs. Which is fae for, You drive me mad with your beauty, my blood blossom.

But I'm still determined to get over these gorgeous assholes, so I step backward to get out from between them—but cool hands gently grasp my bare shoulders from behind. “Watch where you’re going, Oakley,” Everett says, his quiet voice almost lost to the music that has resumed.

What a shame that someone so beautiful is an asshole.

"Our quintet emphasis?" he says slowly. "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?"

"Yes, you are. You're mine, and I'm yours—end of the motherfucking story. The end. Get over it." Excuse me?

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."

And I know I'm not the only unmatched dude who's dying for a shot at your ass⁠—" Ice seals his lips together. Frozen crystals bloom all over his dark skin and clothing, sealing together and thickening until less than a blink of an eye later, I'm staring at a siren frozen in place like a statue.

"I saw you touch him. That's not happening ever again." “Why the fuck do you even care?"

"I can flirt with anyone I want." "Like hell you can," I grit.

"You enjoying this, baby? Tell me, how wet does it make your panties knowing you're torturing us?" "Hard to tell when I'm not wearing any." Fuck. Me.

"No wonder she didn't even know what ice cream was," I mutter. "Or how to drive," Crypt agrees. Silas goes very still. "What are you talking about? She drove herself to Pennsylvania." "That she did." "Are you telling me that you let her drive all the way there knowing that she'd never driven a fucking car before?" Crypt grins. "She made it in one piece. Our girl is a quick learner." The blood fae pinches the bridge of his nose. "One day, I'm going to kill you."

His gaze drops, and he bites his lip. "Mmm. I much prefer this view, but I'm obligated to let you know that your very lovely tits are on display."

“So, about this condition of yours," Baelfire interrupts my train of thought, tugging gently on a loose strand of my hair.

I take a deep breath. "I want your help." His brows go up, and then a wicked grin curls his lips. "Absolutely. I'll gladly help you get to sleep, especially if you need to be worn out first."

You said it yourself that you want an orgasm or two. I'll give you plenty." Baelfire leans close to my ear to whisper. "I'll double whatever he's offering. All the orgasms you want, as long as you come on my face and make me beg for it."

"Is the chill pill a real thing?" I ask. Bael blinks down at me. "What?" "Kenzie once told me that I'm far too intense and need a prescription for a chill pill. If that exists, you two also need a prescription."

I spin to glare up at him, ready to be done with this. "Look, it's not the first time someone manipulated me into bed and fucked me to get what they wanted. It's shitty, but I'll get over it, so let it go." Silas stares at me for a solid seven seconds, unblinking. Then he snarls, baring his teeth, and⁠— He has fangs. Huh. Those are new. "What?" he roars. I tip my head. "Do all blood fae have retracting fangs? That's⁠—"

In the flickering firelight with fury and shadows dancing on his face, with pointed ears, eyes red as blood, and gleaming fangs, he truly does look like the descendant of a monster, primed and ready to kill. Utterly gorgeous.

"After class, I want Pierce," I mutter quietly enough that no other legacies will overhear. Baelfire shoots me a sharp look already tinged with jealousy. "Pierce? Who the fuck is that? Is some other guy trying to⁠—" "My dagger," I clarify.

But Crypt abruptly materializes, grabs the girl by her ponytail, and vanishes with her. In the next second, she reappears—at the height of the very tall ceiling, screaming in abject terror before her body hits the stone floor at the front of the classroom with a loud crack.

My keeper isn't bleeding, but I'd still like to resurrect that bitch and kill her again for good measure.

"There will be no more violence, maiming, killing, or, gods forbid, cell phones in this classroom," the professor snaps. "I don't care that communications are under a magic chokehold, just keep those damn contraptions out of my sight."

I'd like to kiss her for ridding the world of him. And if she didn't kill him, I'd still like to kiss her.

Just as fae are weak to iron, vampires fall to oak, and all types of shifters can't heal from silver, bronze is every siphon's weakness.

"Not a good time to lose it, Si. People will notice. Focus on Maven." I blink. "Why me?" "Because you're his sunflower or whatever." It takes me a moment to piece that one together. "Sangfluir?" "Yeah, that."

"Eireach chial, thiga ais thu'ganh," I murmur in fae. Come back to me, handsome lunatic.

"I'm always armed," I reply coolly, brushing past him to stand with everyone else at the forest's edge. "So, as Kenzie would say, calm your tits."

"I'm what happens when the Undead experiment on the living."

I can barely get the words out as I put the pieces together. "Who touched you?"

"How strong are your stomachs?" "Why do you ask?" "Because I'm going to torture this changeling, and oddly enough, not everyone enjoys that."

"I almost forgot. You're quite the botanist. Odd that you should have that hobby, though." With our faces close like this, I have the luxury of studying the dark kaleidoscope of colors in her irises as she arches a brow. "Why, because I come from a lifeless void?" "Precisely." She shrugs. "Everyone needs a hobby, even in hell."

"No more Boo. Boo is dead. Put that nickname on a fucking gravestone and move on."

There never has been and never will be anyone but you for me. Twisted souls like ours can't help belonging together, will of the gods be damned. Quintet or not, bound or not, I was always going to be yours, darling. Wherever you rest your pretty head, keep this under your pillow until I return to you. And please dream of me, for if I could dream, it would always be of you.