Shadow Heart (Cursed Legacies, #2)

by Morgan B. Lee

"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.

"There will be no more violence, maiming, killing, or, gods forbid, cell phones in this classroom," the professor snaps.

I roll my eyes so hard it hurts my brain. The words sweet and Natalya should never be uttered in the same room. To say she's a bloodsucking, mind-leeching hyena with the emotional intelligence of a screaming, tantrum-throwing toddler would be more accurate but still an understatement.

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

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.

But that seems enough to appease Baelfire's dragon because it lowers its large head, opens its mouth, and drops the still-smoldering corpse on the ground before me. Like a...burnt offering. Aww. I peer up at the beautiful creature. "Thanks."

now... I hope I can keep myself in check while I end these idiots. Otherwise, I'll be a mindless, blood-crazed weapon until I'm killed and revived. Either way, what fun.

When I give him a silently furious look, he sighs and looks away. "I was going to stay in Limbo and see you safely back to the apartment without you seeing me like this, but that vampire chose death by touching you."

Usually, I would protest. But considering the current mental state of my quintet and how they're all looking at me like they'll murder even a fly for daring to land near me, I decide it's more time-efficient to just go along with it. And if I'm candid with myself…I don't mind that they're so protective of me.

"Fucking fuck," Decimus grimaces. Articulate to a point, that one.