Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies, #3)

by Morgan B. Lee

Baelfire growls, but I speak to Luka in a saccharine voice. "If you don't want drama, get a head start before I join the fray, or I may accidentally pull your spine out of your ass."

"Nice heartbeat," she murmurs, where her head rests against my chest. "Can I peek now?" I switch directions to move toward the courtyard that she requested, ignoring the flare of pain throughout my body as Limbo tries to pull me in another direction. "Do you fancy madness?" "Since I 'fancy' you, the answer must be yes."

Maven nods, glancing around as tendrils of her dark hair waft around her blood-streaked face. "Limbo is bizarre and otherworldly. Distorted. Some would call it disturbing." "So you like it." "That's what I just said." I smile.

"Unless you'd like me to perform a laryngectomy on you with my bare hands, you won't breathe another word around my keeper again," I warn him darkly. Although Kenzie shoots me an exasperated look for threatening her match, I don't miss the way Maven's lips twitch in amusement when the vampire goes pale at my threat.

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Just admit that deep, deep down, hiding under all that hardcore badassery, you're a total sweetheart." "Keep insulting me, and I'll leave you here to be the hellhounds' chew toy." Kenzie laughs and moves toward Maven, but I tense.

After several minutes, I move through Limbo to emerge at Maven's side. When I glance down at my obsession, she has a frown on her beautiful face, her very biteable lower lip protruding slightly. "Something the matter, love?" "It's fine." "Tell me." Maven sighs. "Not one haunting whisper, reanimated corpse, vengeful spirit, or cursed coffin. These catacombs suck." I laugh. It's absolutely adorable when she pouts.

As soon as she leaves with her quintet, I turn to mine. “Thank gods,” Baelfire grumbles, wrapping me in a very warm hug. “They’re nice and all, but I’ve been fucking dying to hold you. I know how much you hate PDA, so I waited. You’re welcome. Feel free to praise me.” I fight a smile and relax into his hug for a second.

I pull back, going perfectly still. "Silas," she huffs, rolling her hips insistently. "There's something very wrong with me." "I'm already in the mood. You don't have to try seducing me more."

"My parents won't care," Baelfire confidently insists. "I'm the Entity's scourge. I'm very literally a heartless, unnatural, death-fueled monster. Does that scream take her home to meet the parents to you?" she asks dryly. Crypt abruptly appears next to us and grins. "It does, actually. I, for one, couldn't wait to introduce you to my parent." "And now he's dead," our keeper points out. He leans down to kiss the tip of her nose. "My point exactly, and yet another reason I adore you." Twisted bastard.

Crypt is dressed in a black hoodie smattered in fake blood that reads, "I put the laughter in slaughter."

Baelfire steals a bite of my remaining ice cream. "So, how is this date gonna end, hellion? I'll give you a hint: the right answer is with you sitting on my face until I pass out." My neck abruptly feels hot. “You’re set on that, I see." “If I don't die getting smothered by your sweet ass, I'll consider my death a complete failure."

Gibbons' delectable screams of pain turn into sobs as Crypt casually tosses one of his eyeballs to the side. Baelfire bares his teeth again. "I have several things in mind for this kiss-ass for trying to kill you. Why rush?" “That’s the spirit, lizard." Crypt grins in maniacal approval, pressing into the mage's broken arm so Gibbons shouts again. "Let's take it nice and slow so our girl can savor his screams." Seeing the vengeful, twisted fury on their faces just for me makes my stomach flutter. Like I said. I'm catching feelings.

She's turned sideways, her feet in Everett's lap. Her dark gaze is pinned on the suite's TV. When a handful of the humans in the movie escape the mansion and race into the woods, she boos. Everett side-eyes her, fighting a smile. "You're rooting for the monster, aren't you?" "Of course I am. Everyone else in this movie is too stupid to live."

pick up the remote and flip through the channels to distract her. "Should we look for something else to watch, or is it finally Sit-On-My-Face-O’Clock?"

"Whatever you do, do not edge her. Take it from me, she will loathe it and possibly try to leave." "I didn't ask for advice," Everett seethes, going to the suite's kitchen to dig a bottle of water out of the fridge. He uncaps it and then pauses, considering. "She really doesn't like edging?" "Hates it," Silas confirms. "Unless she's fast asleep," Crypt adds. When we all turn to make various faces at him for dropping that little nugget of too much information, he smirks. "Oh, please. As if you lot have any pearls left to clutch, when Crane and Frost would gladly watch, and Decimus would happily get on his knees to beg our girl for far less." I mean...he's not wrong. I fucking love being on my knees for Maven.

After a few moments of silence, I see that Everett looks stuck in his head as he takes another painfully slow sip from the water bottle. He used to do this when we were little, too—begin to overthink shit until he freezes up. The poor fucker will be here for the next three to five business days unless someone snaps him out of it. "You know what? Just shrimp it up because it's not like you'll ever outshine me in the bedroom anyway, Popsicle Prick," I tell him cheerfully. Then I frown, a thought crossing my mind. "Hold up. Is your jizz cold? Like a sperm Icee?" That does the trick. Everett does a spit take, choking like he's about to die. Silas stares at me, appalled. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" "I'm just saying, if it is...ice cream is Maven's favorite. She has a thing for frozen treats, meaning he might have an unfair advantage there. So if he's firing little Frosties⁠—" "Shut up. Don't talk to me again tonight, you fucking freak," Everett grumbles, throwing the open water bottle at me. "And never bring up my…that again. Ever. Ugh." I call after him as he storms toward the second bedroom. "We're gonna be seeing each other's dicks the rest of our lives. Get over it before you make it weird for everyone." He slams the door. Silas rubs his temple. "You've already made it weird for everyone, Bael. So incredibly fucking weird." He leaves, too, and I glance at Crypt on the couch. He shrugs one shoulder. "I thought it was a perfectly reasonable question." Fuck. Seriously? ...

I adjust the blanket again, pretending like my neck doesn't feel warm—but it does. Gods, they all affect me way too fucking much when they get flirtatious. "So cute, yet so mean," Bael sighs dramatically, but the way he leans down to kiss the top of my head as we start walking tells me his ego is as unharmed as ever. "You four had plenty of warning on that front," I point out with a smirk. "Touché.”

I shrug. “It is, but I like him.” Baelfire growls. “You what? That’s it, I'm with Si. Let's kill the guy.” “Slowly and violently,” Crypt agrees. “I call dibs.” “Fine by me. I think we'll all like him more when he's dead,” Everett adds crisply. Gods. They're all so jealous and over the top, it’s damn near toxic. I love it.

Ross ignores both of us. As Maven passes by, he catches her ungloved hand like he’s about to kiss the back of it. When she loses her composure and visibly flinches at the surprise, unwanted physical contact, I see red⁠— And so does Crypt because he promptly pulls out his enchanted sword and cuts off the caster’s hand that dared touch our keeper.

snort, replying to my testy elemental. “Nice try. I’m not staying.” "It'll be brutal out there—a bloody massacre,” Ross warns, dread written all over his face. "I already said I'm going. Don't try to sell me on it.” Crypt laughs at that.

Bael folds his arms, lifting his chin. “We were busy.” “Doing?” “Wouldn’t you like to know?” I fold my arms, too. “I would, actually.” “Too fucking bad. Take not knowing as your punishment for running off and leaving us here like useless sacks of potatoes,” I grunt, my irritation returning. Maven’s eyes flash. For a half second, as our keeper turns to me with a deathly glare, I regret all my life choices. “Punishment? I must’ve misheard you.” Nope. Stay strong. It doesn’t matter how scary she can be—I’m digging my heels in with this one.

“Don’t look at him again,” I warn her, letting my voice drop to deadly levels. “And if you make one more passing remark about any of my men, I will cut those horns off of your fucking head and strangle you with your own spine.” “Aww,” Bael coos behind me. “Did you guys hear that? Her men. I love when she gets all murderous and sappy.” A searing glare quickly replaces his happy grin as he looks back at Eisha. “But to be clear, my mate will absolutely fuck you up, so keep your beady little eyes off the merchandise.”

“Why should I go?” “Baby, I'm going to lose my fucking mind. I'll be insatiable—already, literally the only thing I can think about is claiming and fucking the living hell out of you. Gods, I just want to covet and mark and fill you until you can't fucking move,” he grits out, palming his erection roughly with a wince. It’s difficult to breathe, but I shrug. “I fail to see a downside to any of that. If you’re trying to convince me to leave, you're doing a terrible job of it.”