Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

12. Everett

12

EVERETT

I slip inside through the front door of the tiny cabin, adjusting the paper bags in my arms so I can force the door shut against the pressure of the howling wind.

The shit weather outside tonight is a sharp contrast against the cheery holiday music playing from Baelfire's phone in the combined kitchen and living room area. Baelfire is brushing snow off a short blue spruce tree he just brought in. Festive holiday-toned fae lights twinkle around the windows and above the fireplace, which is crackling with blue fire.

I squint. "How the hell did you make the fire blue without shifting into a dragon to light it?"

"Trade secret," Bael grunts, wandering into the little kitchen to check something baking in the ancient-looking oven.

With how hectic things have been since First Placement, we almost lost track of what day tomorrow is. We've been in Tall Pine for nearly two days, and Baelfire wasn't shitting us when he said this town didn't have much.

Which means it was really fucking hard to find decent gifts for Maven for Starfall Eve.

Still, I think I managed.

Since arriving here, we've slowly recovered from recent events under the thick cloaking spell Maven and Silas put up on this little cabin. Our quintet has spent most of the last thirty-odd hours sleeping or fucking.

I mean—I'm not having sex.

Obviously.

But it's been the only thing I've thought about ever since the others gave me unsolicited advice and insisted it may keep Maven safe from my curse.

To make things a hundred times worse, I walked in on Maven sitting on Baelfire's face in bed this morning. She was completely naked, leaning forward to tease his cock while his muffled moaning made him sound like a very happily dying man.

Now, I can't stop fantasizing about being in his place.

Last night, she was with Silas—and Crypt did something with her in the shower this morning. I know because I overheard her pretty little gasps as she came.

They all keep wringing those fucking perfect sounds out of her.

It's like listening to a heaven just out of reach.

I don’t mind listening. Or watching. In fact, I can't seem to get enough of seeing my keeper come undone if I happen to be in the same room—which keeps happening because these assholes are intentional about when and where they pounce on her. They're trying to drive home their point that I should be trying to bond with her.

All day, I've been flushed and distracted.

Gods above, I'm barely holding it together through how much I want her.

What if the others are right, and the best way to protect her is by trying to bond with her as soon as fucking possible?

But wait. What if I finally get to worship Maven, and that finally triggers my curse?

Or—shit, what if there is literally nothing I can do to protect my keeper? What if I'm still risking everything I've ever wanted just being here with her?

My head hurts.

"Careful, Frosty. I hear that if snowmen stand by the fireplace too long, they melt," Baelfire snarks, picking another holiday song on his playlist.

I blink, realizing I've been frozen with anxiety for way too long just inside the door of the cabin. My attention drifts to the closed bedroom door. There aren't any sex sounds coming from inside. I'm both relieved and bitterly disappointed.

And still really fucking horny.

"What's in the bags?" Bael asks.

"Gifts for Maven," I mutter, rubbing my face.

"Better include a sex toy you plan to use on her to finally fucking test the theory," he says chipperly, mixing something in a baking bowl.

All the shit in this cozy little cabin was either bought by me yesterday in Tall Pine's little marketplace, or it was stolen from gods-know-where by Crypt. It was left empty and lightly furnished when we found it—probably someone's summer cabin.

"This is hard enough without you opening your fat mouth," I grit out.

"Pretty sure you mean you're hard enough, Professor Blue Balls."

"Shut up. Is Silas still keeping Maven distracted?"

The plan was to set up a miniature Starfall Eve to surprise her. Even though we're considered public enemies and we're only here until we have a lead on etherium, we decided this was an important first for our keeper. After all, we're all pretty damn sure she never celebrated the holiday in the Nether.

Starfall started as the celebration of the day the gods first cursed monsterkind. It's said that when the humans' prayers were answered, lights like stars rained down from the sky—the wrath of the gods visible to the naked eye. All monsters in the mortal realm suffered vicious curses that humbled and subdued them once they learned they needed to find their quintets. That led to armistices, treaties, intermingling with humans, and eventually legacies.

Hundreds of years later, that day is still the biggest celebration of the year, even if it is too commercialized for most elementals' liking.

Baelfire opens his mouth to answer my question, but Crypt blurs into existence right in front of me, making both of us swear.

"They're having a bath together," he drawls, trying to peek into the paper bags. I hold them away from him. "I offered to join, but an awful lot of that telepathic rubbish was going on. Also, Crane very dramatically insisted that he would rather castrate himself than climb into a bath with me."

"Yet another sign that he's completely sane now." I set the paper bags on the small table and begin tidying up some of the messes Baelfire has left in the kitchen.

He slides a dough-filled bread pan into the oven, his voice becoming oddly strained. "Back the fuck off. This kitchen isn't big enough for two."

"It's not big enough for you ," I correct.

He shoves me slightly. I shove him back, intent on cleaning some spilled flour?—

But I suddenly go airborne before slamming into one of the living room walls. It knocks the breath out of me, and my element slips quickly out of my control.

Ice explodes around me like a shield of spikes, which ends up being good and bad when Baelfire impales himself on one of the massive icicles a second later. The snarl that rips out of him is entirely inhuman. He starts tearing at the ice with his bare hands, his shifted eyes pinned on me with pure, animalistic malice.

Fuck. This isn't Bael.

His dragon is trying to kill me.

Just as bright royal blue fire burns through his skin, and his features begin to transform, Crypt grabs the shifter by the back of his neck and vanishes into Limbo.

Uh oh. Is that incubus going to kill him?

I’ve often said that I’d like Baelfire dead, but quintets are supposed to protect each other. Losing one of us would hurt Maven more than I like to think about.

The door of the bathroom slams open, and my keeper bolts into the living room. Dark magic crackles at her fingertips as she scours the room, probably expecting bounty hunters or another threat.

She's completely naked and dripping water, which is why I stay flat on my ass, staring at her instead of saying anything useful—because my brain is hyper-fixated on every single curve and dip of her toned, wet body.

Dear gods above. How can she be this sexy? Those hips, those dusky pink nipples, the gentle slope of her neck, the flash of danger in her dark gaze…

Even the bit of blood on her neck from an obvious feeding session with the blood fae is a beautiful splash of macabre color on an immaculate canvas.

"Maven," Silas shouts in alarm, following her into the room.

At least he's wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. He blinks at the damage my impact did to the wall.

"Godsdamn it all, what happened?"

Seeing Maven move too close to one of the wickedly sharp icicles, I immediately melt the ice around me and get to my feet, ignoring the ache in my bones. Nothing feels broken, but my ego isn't the only thing that will be bruised later.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to inter?—"

Her hands frame my face as she checks it for injury before moving on to survey the rest of me. When she sees I’m unharmed, she exhales slightly and meets my eye.

I can't say I'm doing the same for her. Her naked body is a sensual weapon, and I also can't stop staring at the House of Arcana emblem on her scarred chest.

I need my mark on her, too. So fucking badly.

"Where are the others?" she asks.

I replay the last couple of minutes in my head. "Baelfire's dragon just took over while he was still in human form. He lost control, and…Crypt took him away through Limbo. Outside, I guess."

She turns to the front door.

"You're not going out into that naked," I snap at the same time Silas grasps her hand to keep her from leaving.

I can tell our reactions have irritated her. Luckily, before she can put us in our place, Crypt reappears, brushing snow out of his messy dark hair and off of the distressed leather jacket he picked up at some point.

"Not to worry, darling. Your pet lizard just needed to go hunting. He'll be perfectly well soon enough."

"Except you took him into Limbo."

"Only briefly. I doubt his psyche was in true danger when his dragon was wholly in charge."

Maven absorbs that, nods, and moves on, her dark gaze flicking around this festive space.

"Why the fuck is there a tree inside?"

"It's tradition," Silas supplies. "It will look better decorated for Starfall."

"Decorated with what? Bones?"

"Why the hell would we put bones on it?" I ask, disturbed.

She shrugs. The movement once again draws my attention to her pretty tits and the tempting curve of her hips.

"It's what monsters in the Nether do to mark their dens. They also hang up the skins of their kills and stain tree trunks with blood. They actually make decent decorators whenever they're not using human skin."

Oh, dear gods. "Baelfire was right. We need to put you in therapy."

She seems genuinely confused by the suggestion, but the conversation derails entirely when Crypt leans over to lick a streak of the remaining blood from her neck.

Silas pulls Maven away from the incubus freak immediately, glaring at him.

"What?" Crypt asks innocently, licking his lips as he gazes at Maven, who looks like she's fighting a smile. "It was only a taste. You get both her blood and her thoughts right now. Consider me jealous."

"Still, what the hell? You can't siphon from her blood," I huff, noting that Maven is now eyeing the paper bags on the table. Meanwhile, we're all eyeing her from head to toe.

"What's your point, Frost?"

Never fucking mind. I keep forgetting that logic is useless against this psychopath.

Maven finally notices that we're all practically drooling over her body. She twists her wet hair up out of her face, turning toward the bedroom. I have to physically bite my tongue to keep from groaning at the sight of her round, flawless ass.

"I'll be right back," she says over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

Silas immediately glares at us, brushing still-dripping black curls off his forehead. "You three need to figure your shit out and bond with her."

"Fuck off," I scowl. "I told you, we're not going to just use Maven to break our curses?—"

"It's not about the curses anymore." He checks to make sure the bedroom door is still closed before lowering his voice. "The magic in Maven's blood tastes stronger now that we've bonded. I think completing the quintet bonds will help her be even stronger than she already is—and if that fucking bastard is after her, I want our quintet to be as strong as possible to help keep her safe."

My teeth clench at the reminder of the wraith who came for Maven. I'm no empath, and she's good at hiding her feelings—but the hollow, haunted expression she wore after the run-in with the wraith was clear as day.

I can't imagine the horrors in Maven's past, but if I have anything to say about it, her future will be nothing but comfort and pleasure.

So even though I'm nowhere near good enough for her, even though I've hurt her and been a complete asshole…if there's a chance that bonding with her will help us take on whatever comes next, then I'll try anything—any of the theories.

My expression must reflect my new determination because Silas nods, smirking.

"I need to gather some final ingredients for my Starfall Eve gift to Maven out in the woods. Otherwise, I’d stay and watch. Just remember: no edging."

Heat floods my face. This damn blood fae is just as much of a voyeur as I am, but the jackass also seems to have figured out that I happen to like the idea of an audience.

"Don't worry. I'll show our innocent virgin how to treat our keeper right," Crypt drawls, patting my shoulder.

I smack his hand away, my face red. “I’m not innocent, and shut the fuck up, both of you."

"I'll return shortly," Silas goes on, "but if you three are still at it, I'll happily?—"

Crypt's markings light up, and he visibly cringes. He mutters something about wisps, and the air warps as he blurs out of existence to take care of Limbo.

"Curses left and right," I sigh.

"Everywhere but right here," Silas brags before going into the bedroom to change.

I roll my eyes and tidy the kitchen, ensuring nothing burns in Baelfire's absence. By the time Silas slips into one of the coats on the coat rack and leaves the cabin, I'm a nervous wreck once again.

Because I'm alone here with Maven. Who I can't stop thinking about.

As if the gods are testing me, my keeper comes out in only an oversized black hoodie—no pants. I'm not sure if she's wearing panties.

I realize I've been staring at her legs far too hard, trying to figure out that little mystery, when she grins and hops up to sit on one of the counters.

"This a better angle for you?" she teases.

I whirl around, pretending to check a steaming casserole dish on the counter to hide the heat on my face.

"Um…no, I was just—sorry."

I hear a soft scraping sound and look over to see her twirling a little dagger on the kitchen counter beside her, her gaze far away. It's not Pierce. Where did she even pull that thing from?

And since I'm weak, I glance down between her legs to see that she's wearing lacy black panties under her hoodie that has ridden up to show off her legs.

When my keeper speaks, I'm still frozen with longing, my gaze locked on those beautiful thighs begging to be touched.

“If you’re not too busy staring, what’s in the bags?”

I startle so hard that I almost knock the casserole dish off the counter. "Shit, I didn't mean to…um, they’re gifts. For you.”

Maven blinks. “Why would you get me gifts?”

“First of all, I always want to get you gifts. But second of all, it’s a Starfall Eve tradition. Humans have been giving gifts to celebrate the end of the reign of monsters for a long time. The humans even invented some old tale about an old guy with a beard in a garish red suit who passed out gifts to the poor right after the wars.”

“Like that guy you gave money to. Seemed generous.”

I shrug. “Yeah, well…it’s an overly commercialized holiday, but the perk is that there’s a lot of charity this time of year. More importantly, I get an excuse to spoil you. Not that this is much, since we’re out in the boonies, but…here.”

I pull out the first item from one of the bags: an oversized, comfortable, skull-patterned black hoodie. I have no idea if Maven will like it, but?—

Her face lights up.

I go weak in the knees.

Holy shit, I love being the reason for that expression on her pretty face. I swear to myself that as soon as we’re not on the run, I’m going to buy her the entire fucking world just to see more of that look she’s wearing right now.

She accepts the hoodie with a grin when I offer it. “Thank you.” Then her brow furrows. “Fuck, I didn’t get you anyth?—”

“I also got you this,” I interrupt because there’s no way my keeper gets to feel bad about not following a tradition she knew nothing about.

She tips her head as she reads the label on the bottle. “Sore muscle massage oil?”

I nod, my cheeks warming as I realize she might not like this gift. “You push yourself hard constantly. I thought you probably get sore, and this might help. If you want. If you don’t like it?—”

“I do. Will you massage me with it?” Her smirk is teasing and tempting at the same time.

I fumble, swallowing hard as my heart starts to pound. “If…you want.”

“I do want.”

Maven slides off the counter, grabbing my free hand to still it. Only then do I realize I started fidgeting with the buttons of my wool car jacket.

Her mesmerizing, dark gaze doesn't move from mine, pinning me in place as she studies me.

"Romance doesn't come naturally to me," Maven begins hesitantly. "I'm abysmal at expressing myself unless it's with a blade, but I know that you're terrified of hurting me with your curse."

What an understatement. Even now, anxiety has frost climbing up my arms as I subtly try to move away, just in case my proximity to my keeper will somehow do her harm.

I can't stand the idea of ruining everything we could have together. I shouldn't be alone with this gorgeous, confident, brave enigma, and I shouldn't be aching for her like this.

Massage oil? What the fuck was I thinking? I can’t massage her—she won’t like my cold hands on all that smooth skin. Gods above, I hate myself for how badly I want her when I could end up hurting her.

When I take another step back, Maven steps forward until I'm backed against one of the counters with nowhere to go. I try to swallow again but fail.

"Maven…" I warn.

"I want to show you there's nothing to be afraid of."

"But what if?—"

"Everett." She reaches up to brush her fingers through my hair. "I want you. Do you want me?"

So fucking much it hurts.

But I only manage to nod, my hands itching to land on her hips and close the space between us.

"Good. That's all we need," my keeper insists.

"But—"

"Your curse is supposed to kill anyone you fall for. I know." Her gaze is both astute and careful at once. “So tell me. Why hasn’t it hurt me?”

My heart is pounding. She's right. It's the most obvious thing in the world that I've fallen for her, so why hasn't my curse done anything to her yet?

Unless…what if…

A new idea forms, steeling itself in my mind. A realization that should have dawned ages ago—one so unpleasant that it takes me a moment to breathe again once my world stops adjusting on its axis.

If what I suspect is true…

Fuck, I should’ve known.

I don’t say anything because there’s no fucking way that I’m going to let them ruin this moment when Maven is looking up at me with the beautiful kaleidoscope of dark colors that make up her irises.

Instead of saying something, I finally pull her closer to close the gap between our bodies. Her perfect warmth soothes the cold shards of hurt that started spiraling inside me with my realization.

I feel like I'm in some torturously tempting dream with this gorgeous woman looking up at me with dark, playful eyes. I want this so fucking badly, but what if I say or do the wrong thing and wake up in a cold sweat with a raging hard-on to realize this fantasy was nothing but a dream?

I can't mess this up.

“I don’t—I mean, if you…the massage might make me, um...”

Damn it. I'm already messing it up.

Maven fights a laugh, her eyes glittering like she's genuinely enjoying watching my struggle. Knowing her, she probably is.

"You're adorable when you're nervous.”

I blow out a breath, covering my face. "I've never been this fucking nervous before. It’s just that massaging you will make me even more…” I trail off, realizing how that would sound.

“Horny?”

“I don’t expect this to lead to anything,” I say quickly, adjusting my collar twice. My brain doesn’t want to function with this beautiful woman against me. “I promise that’s not why I got the oil. I just think it would be good for?—”

“Everett. You're overthinking it. Follow me.”