Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

9. Baelfire

9

BAELFIRE

"They picked literally the dumbest place possible to hide," Everett huffs, making a face as the monster rips two more humans apart offscreen.

We found this old holiday-themed horror movie while scrolling through the channels. It's complete with cheesy acting, gratuitous amounts of fake gore, and a ridiculously fake monster chasing screaming humans and legacies around an abandoned mansion decked in lights and mistletoe.

It's exactly the kind of movie I'd usually make fun of, especially because of the thinly veiled humans-are-better-than-legacies shtick they have going.

But oh my gods , I can't focus on any of it with Maven in my lap like this. She smells insanely good, her subtle midnight scent wrapping around me when she brushes some of her dark hair out of her face. I want to lean down and lick her neck to see if I can taste this scent that drives me fucking nuts.

Or I could lick her pussy.

Damn it, I want to taste her so bad.

The only thing stopping me from carrying her back to one of the rooms and begging her to let me make her come until she passes out is the fact that she's actually enjoying this movie. She's dressed in the comfy pajamas I picked out for her—a tank top and shorts that barely reach her thighs, which means I can't stop staring at all of her exposed skin. She's not wearing a bra, and fuck, it's so hard to keep my hands off those gorgeous tits.

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."

I bury my nose in the side of her neck again, my heart doing double time when her scent engulfs me. I can't get enough of it. My cock is stiff and has been for the last fifteen minutes, but Maven hasn't noticed since there's also a thick blanket in my lap acting as a buffer.

"You're so fucking cute, Boo," I rasp.

She gives me a stern look that makes my cock twitch, keeping her voice low enough that only I can hear her over the movie.

"If you keep calling me either of those things, I'll actually punish you."

Gods, yes. Please.

Holding her is doing wonders for me. It's keeping me in my own fucking head when the asshole living under my skin has been wrenching control from me over and over again today. We've had so much going on—First Placement ending in disaster, her and Silas mysteriously bonding, going on the run—that I've been waiting to find the right time to tell Maven that I've started blacking out for a couple of minutes at a time.

Because my dragon is figuring out how to take control of my human body.

This has never happened before. It's freaking me the hell out. So far, the asshole hasn't done anything horrible that I know of, and no one's noticed…at least, not until he killed Gibbons. Ending that annoying-ass mage seems to have quieted my dragon for the moment, but I'm still an anxious fucker as the movie ends and we watch the credits roll.

Maven yawns. "It was good until they killed the monster."

Without looking, I hear Silas wander out of one of the back rooms to store something in the hotel suite's fridge. He's been doing caster shit ever since we got back from dinner. When he moves to stand beside the couch, I catch a whiff of him.

He smells like that colorless herb Crypt found in the Divide. I catch his eye and nod, appreciative that he's still working on something for the next time my mate's shadow heart starts to hurt her.

Maven's gaze slips toward one of the suite windows, and her lips press together. It's a subtle expression since she's still wary of showing her feelings even around us, but it’s clear that she's worried about her psychotic incubus.

I 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?"

That does the trick. Maven starts to say something quippy when the TV settles on a news channel that shuts us all up.

"—anonymous resource, a former employee of the Immortal Quintet, reported that the Legacy Council has now launched a manhunt for a legacy named Maven Oakley," an anchorwoman is reporting, standing outside of Everbound University with the castle as a background in the distance. My pulse jumps at the mention of my mate's name. "While we have no record, photos, or footage of this legacy, here is the physical description we were given of her."

Everett swears, glowering at the screen as she rattles off a description.

I don't know which idiot went to the human media to spill about Maven—but when the anchor's description makes her sound like some plain, unpleasant frump, I decide I'll let my dragon kill the leak if we get to hunt them down.

"It remains unclear exactly why this manhunt has been launched, but the legacies' premier mandatory graduate school, Everbound University, is now completely abandoned as we humans are left to wonder what in the world is going on. Sources in Halfton, the town closest to Everbound, have reported constant comings and going of special teams sent in by the Legacy Council, which has refused to officially comment on this situation or the whereabouts of the Immortal Quintet. Another anonymous source claims that a bloody massacre of epic proportions took place at this legacy hub of learning, leaving no one behind for the Legacy Council's response team to question."

"An exaggerated report, I'm sure," Silas muses.

Maven shakes her head but doesn't explain.

The news anchor goes on. "The lack of response from the legacy government has greatly alarmed the president and the secretary of defense as we reach a crisis level of surges near the Divide. Local governments have ordered multiple evacuations along the East Coast, so unfortunately, many families will spend the holidays in emergency aid stations and hotels this year. In addition, countless frantic reports have been received declaring the emergence of a new kind of shadow fiend. No video or photo evidence has been submitted yet. Still, reports indicate that this faceless new threat causes terrifying hallucinations and induces extreme levels of panic—so much so that it quite literally leaves victims paralyzed from fear. Hospitalizations from this unknown menace are occurring at a rapid rate throughout South Carolina and Tennessee?—"

I abruptly notice how still Maven has gone. She's got that same poker face she puts on whenever she's hiding a strong reaction to something.

"Hey. You okay, Boo?" I ask.

She moves out of my lap to stand as the news anchor signs off. Everett takes the remote from me and turns off the TV, standing as he gauges Maven's reaction.

"If you're worried about the humans knowing your name now?—"

She shakes her head but is still clammed up.

"Is this about the new threat?" I ask, gently pulling her closer so I can wrap my arms around her hips and look up at her. "I'm guessing you know what it is?"

Maven seems to debate what to say before rubbing her face. "There are a few shadow fiends that could cause that. I have a call to make. I'll be right back."

"Who are you calling?" Everett asks.

"The demon I mentioned. Hopefully, he'll answer this time. If not, I'll still call Kenzie and let her know we're leaving. She threatened to tell me explicit details of her past sex life if she doesn’t get regular updates to let her know I'm still alive."

She starts to leave and then pauses, glancing at Silas. "Heal Crypt."

He nods. "When he returns?—"

"He's been here for a while," she mutters before slipping into the room on the right.

It’s still trippy as fuck that she can sense him in Limbo. For a second, I wonder why he's staying unseen, and then I remember how upset Maven was the last time he came back injured.

On cue, the moment she's out of the room, Crypt appears collapsed on the other couch with a soft wheeze.

Damn, that's a lot of blood. He's covered in so many tiny lacerations, his clothing torn to shreds, that he looks more like Swiss cheese than a powerful incubus. He's missing most of an eye, and one of his arms is seriously fucked up. I'm pretty sure that's a bone sticking out of it.

No wonder he was staying out of sight.

Crypt drops his head back over the armrest, grimacing as his markings light up briefly. His voice is strained but sarcastic.

"While all this staring is overwhelmingly helpful, either listen to our keeper and heal me or fuck off."

"What the hell happened to you?" Everett gawks.

Crypt tries to flip him off but ends up coughing hoarsely, gritting his teeth. Incubi are supposed to heal as fast as shifters, but since his body isn't healing, it must mean he needs to feed ASAP.

I overheard Crypt and Maven talking. I know he's basically in charge of Limbo. The others don't know, but they should—we might not like each other, but we're still a quintet.

I hesitate, not sure if I should spill on his curse. Ever since we were young, I've always hated Crypt DeLune. He was cruel and way too much like a full-blooded monster. He had no empathy, emotions, or any redeeming qualities.

At least, that's what I'd thought.

Now I know he was watching out for me in his own fucked-up way. He's still a creep, but…I owe him. Hell, I can even say I respect him. Partly for the way he had my back before I knew I needed it, but mostly because it's clear he would do anything for Maven.

We all would, and we all know it. Which is why Silas doesn't say a word as he starts patching up the incubus he's spent years hating far more than I ever did.

As expected, Everett doesn't let Crypt off easily. "Where did you go?"

"Caroling."

"Spit it the fuck out, DeLune," the elemental demands.

"You will mind your tone with me."

That prick is going to fight this tooth and nail, but it's time to clear the air.

"He went to deal with shit happening in Limbo. That's his curse. He's the steward of the dream realm, so he has to deal with wisps and shades before they can affect the mortal plane of existence," I explain.

Crypt levels me with a murderous look. At least, he tries. It misses some of its heat because the fucker is missing an eye, and he's in no condition to try picking a fight with me.

"Breathe one more word, Decimus, and?—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You'll give me bad dreams, snack on my madness, tie my organs into a bow, blah, blah, blah. Threaten me all you fucking want, but they need to know because obviously, your curse is getting shittier just like the rest of ours."

I recap what I learned about Crypt's curse. Silas continues to heal him with blood magic, pricking his fingers periodically as he works. When I'm done, the incubus glowers at nothing in particular, and the others are quiet.

Everett shuffles, rubbing the back of his neck. "If it's getting worse as the Divide weakens…I mean, if there's a way we could help?—"

"Offering to let me feed you three to the shades, are you?" Crypt's voice is dark and angry. "I was fantasizing about doing just that anyway."

"At least now we all know one another's curses," Silas mutters, wiping his bloody hands off on Crypt's shredded sweatshirt. "Or rather, your three remaining curses. It's good to know yours doesn't put Maven at risk like Everett's."

Everett glances down the hall. I can faintly overhear Maven in the other room, patiently waiting for her friend to finish a long rant about awkward family dinners.

I consider what Silas said for a long moment before sighing. "You know what? All curses suck ass, but Snowflake's actually could end up taking my mate away from me. Then I'd have to roast him alive, only it would be a million times less enjoyable. So…maybe we should try to get him bonded to her next."

Everett blinks at me in surprise, his pale blue eyes guarded. "Why would you suggest that? What's in it for you?"

"Maven's safety," Crypt mutters, closing his eyes. Which is good because his missing one is finally trying to regenerate at a snail's pace, and it was fucking nauseating to look at. "In other words, the only thing that really matters."

We all nod in agreement.

I sigh. "All right. Theory-sharing time."

No one says shit.

"Stalker Boy, you go first," I suggest.

Crypt peeks his nasty semi-healed eyeball at me. "Personally, I think it's because of something called gohf ."

"Gohf?"

"Yes. As in, gohfuck yourself , you loose-lipped lizard. "

I rub my face. "Motherfucker, I swear?—"

"Here's my theory," Everett interrupts, rubbing frost off his fingertips. "I think Maven might be a saint."

I burst into laughter. "Yeah, you've obviously never been with our Angel of Death in bed because, let me tell you, there is nothing saintly about the way she takes control. Gods , she is so fucking hot when she gets all dominant."

I adjust my semi as I try to push the mouthwatering image of Maven taking my cock for the first time out of my head.

Everett's cheekbones darken a few shades, but he shakes his head. "Will you shut up and focus? What I meant is I think she's a literal saint. Someone selected by one of the gods as a baby to work miracles on their behalf. Think about it—only the gods can bind legacy hearts together, so they must have had a hand in this. They blessed Maven and Silas's bond. Not to mention, Maven is…kind of in my personal prophecy. I think she was selected as a saint by Arati."

That's the queen of Paradise and the goddess of a bunch of shit like passion, fire, love, warfare…combat.

And it's true that my mate really fucking loves a good fight.

"It's a valid theory," Silas admits, finally stepping away from Crypt.

Crypt hums. "Or she bonded with Silas because he used a large amount of his power on her. Perhaps there is something in our abilities which links us to her."

I frown. “You chow down on her dreams all the time. Wouldn't you have bonded with her already with that logic?"

"I haven't permanently marked her psyche as that of my muse. Yet," he tacks on softly, flexing his now-healed arm. "The ceremony takes great power, which may trigger the bond. I plan on asking her permission soon."

In a way, his theory also seems reasonable. But it’s way too complicated.

"You're all overthinking it," I shrug confidently. "Pretty sure Maven bonded with Silas first because he's the one who technically fucked her first—and he's been the most intimate with her overall."

Silas rolls his eyes. "Your theory centers around sex. No surprise there." He paused, considering. "Although…perhaps it is that simple."

"Let's test that theory first," the Nightmare Prince agrees, finally sitting up and arching his brows at Everett.

The ice elemental turns bright red as we all smirk at him expectantly.

"Absolutely fucking not. I'm not having sex with Maven just to try to break my curse. That is not how it's happening."

"It's not about breaking your curse for you , dickhead. This isn’t about you—it's about keeping her safe since you're clearly already whipped like the rest of us," I point out. "What if your cockblock curse catches up tomorrow, and we lose her just like that?" I snap my fingers to illustrate my point. "None of us know if a metaphysical killing curse would be permanent on her. How the fuck are you going to live with yourself if it is?"

He flinches, shoulders slumping as he looks away. "Believe me, it's all I've been able to think about. Stupid curse is taking its time, though. It's supposed to kill anyone I fall in love with, and…honestly, I'm pretty sure I fell for her the second I saw her on that stage."

I get it. I was ready to burn the world for my mate, even when I only knew her scent.

Crypt tests his recovering eye. "Hearing you get sappy makes me wish the shades finished me off. If we're testing this theory first, don't fuck it up. Maven deserves no less than unparalleled pleasure after all she's been through, so make that your priority."

"I know that," Everett snaps.

"Don't rush things," I add. "And if you're having trouble finding her clit, try?—"

"Will you shut up already?" the red-faced professor scowls. "Just because I haven't participated doesn't mean I haven't seen plenty of sex. My first year as a student at Everbound was spent getting invited to every fucking orgy. I did a lot of watching and learning."

"Perv," I joke.

He shoots me a scathing look. "I wonder if Maven knows how many of those you've jumped dick-first into, Fuck Boy."

It's my turn to flinch, remembering Maven mentioning other girls rubbing my past in her face. Gods, I was a full-blown idiot before I met her.

Maybe I still am, but at least I'm a loyal idiot.

"Watching and doing are two separate things, Frost," Crypt drawls. "Try biting her nipples. Our girl likes a bit of pain to temper her pleasure."

Everett again starts to protest this unsolicited coaching, but Silas interrupts him.

"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.

Everett mutters that he didn't need to know that before taking a sip of water and frowning. "She's still struggling with physical touch, even if she won't admit it. What helps with that?"

"She needs to go at her pace," Silas says. "If she needs a moment, she'll tell you. Believe me, Maven will be the one calling the shots."

"And you'll love it. My mate's absolutely fucking perfect like that," I sigh.

"Agreed, dragon," Crypt nods, gently poking at his now-healed eye.

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'm only in agreement with Crypt of all people?

Maybe my curse is fucking up my head more than I realized.