Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

32. Maven

32

MAVEN

“Don’t eat the meat, Gideon.”

Eyes are on us. Slick, inhuman, carnivorous leers fill the colorless stone dining hall, which is littered with bones.

I can feel him watching us.

He’s here, in this foggy, horrible recollection—I can feel the coldness spreading in my chest. His presence draws me deeper, clinging to my soul like oil, twisting and smothering what little remains of me.

“Why not? I’m so hungry. They never feed us enough.”

Young Gideon reaches for the heaping platter just as the other remaining contenders have. They’re lifting their knives and forks, licking their lips.

Why is Gideon reaching for it? Doesn’t he see what’s going on?

I can’t move. Shadows flood my chest, suffocating me as I fight for clarity. I know what they’re doing to us, just like I know now why Olivia didn’t meet me after training yesterday, as she’s done for months.

She got caught.

“Stop,” I try to warn again, sickness crawling up my throat as I watch his fingers close around a thick cut. “ You can’t. It’s not an animal, it’s ? —”

A cool hand brushes against my face. My eyes fly open as I jolt, gasping for air.

Blinking away the lingering nightmare takes a moment, and my stomach is still churning when I realize Silas, Everett, and Crypt are all gathered around me on the bed. In the dimness of the room, I can make out that they all look horrified and angry.

Possibly because moisture is trickling over my cheeks.

Damn it. Now I’m even more sick to my stomach. I fucking hate crying in front of anyone.

I sit up, quickly swiping at my face.

Crypt swears, his voice a frustrated rasp. “I was forcefully removed from your subconscious again, love. Forgive me, I couldn’t?—”

“It's fine. I’m good.” I breathe out slowly to dispel the lingering nausea.

“You were whispering don’t eat the meat over and over,” Everett says quietly, his soothingly cold hands brushing hair out of my face. “What were you dreaming about?”

I mean to tell them it’s nothing, but words pour out before I can stop them. “When I was twelve, Amadeus learned one of the human girls in the citadel was trying to befriend me. She’s the one who stole Pierce and gifted it to me. As punishment, he…”

Nope. Turns out, I still can’t talk about that incident.

Instead, I take another deep breath, clearing my throat. “The Undead feel a limited spectrum of emotions, but one of their greatest amusements is seeing the living unwittingly eat their own. I could never be sure where meat came from. That’s why I still can’t stomach it.”

Everett looks as sick as I feel. “Oh. Oh, holy gods, that's…”

Silas pulls me onto his lap. He holds me for long moments until he quietly speaks, changing the topic—thank the universe.

“The Entity has sensed changes to your shadow heart because of us, but does he know you are sharing dreams with him?”

I shrug. If Amadeus does know, it doesn’t seem like he’s been utilizing this strengthened link.

But if he does figure it out—if he gets a sense of my gambit through my dreams…

I glance out the window, letting my worry shift to something more present. After all, my missing match feels like a gaping hole left in this room.

“I’m going to check on Baelfire again.”

I can see that Silas and Everett want to protest since they think he may be a danger to me right now. We spent half the day watching the golden beast prowl through the woods, flying, hunting, and generally not behaving like Baelfire. The beast tried to take a bite out of his brother, Declan, when he shifted and tried to speak with him.

Meanwhile, Crypt nods in agreement. I wonder if his support stems from guilt because none of us know if Bael's current condition is from his curse worsening or passing through Limbo while conscious.

Or maybe Crypt is just more fond of Baelfire than he will ever admit.

Not changing out of my pajamas, I slip into my boots and leave the mother-in-law’s suite, followed closely by the others. Since it’s past one in the morning, it’s dark and quiet in the Decimus family home.

But when we step out onto their massive back deck overlooking the woods, Everett swears in surprised alarm.

Baelfire's dragon is staring at me through the snow and trees. The beast’s piercing, possessive golden gaze follows my every movement. Its tail slowly curls left and right behind it as it remains perched on the mountainside, its crown of magnificent horns gleaming in the moonlight along with all those golden scales.

“Baelfire?” I check, hopeful.

The beast tips its head to a comedic angle, long neck craning. Smoke rises from its nostrils as it unfolds and refolds those beautifully expansive wings.

“It's just his dragon right now,” Brigid Decimus says, joining us on the back porch.

She's still dressed in day clothes, her brown hair tucked into a loose bun. Baelfire’s mother stands at the edge of the deck to watch her son, her hands clasped behind her back in a militant posture. She glances at me with her one golden eye, smiling softly.

“You know, this dragon isn't nearly as bad as Baelfire likes to think. Poor thing is just cursed.”

I nod, watching my dragon as it stalks through more trees to watch us better. Something about the smooth, sleek movements paired with the massive body and serpentine tail is mesmerizing. Those slitted dragon eyes never budge from me.

“His dragon saved my life once,” Brigid adds.

“I heard there was a coup against you.” I frown, recalling what Silas and Everett mentioned before. “Five years ago. That would have made Baelfire just sixteen.”

She nods, checking a watch with a little screen on it before assuming the same straight-backed stance.

“Yes. It was on his sixteenth birthday, actually. I got permission to let him come for a brief visit to where I was stationed near the Divide so we could celebrate together. I knew some of my new troops were troublemakers, and I already had people I trusted looking into things. What I didn't know was that those troublemakers planned on killing me that day. They found me alone, tranquilized me, and began carving out my scales while I was unconscious. Baelfire's dragon sensed the danger in time and killed them off.”

The dragon has now stalked so close that when it lifts its long neck to peer at us, my other matches take an almost synchronized step back.

Brigid and I stay where we are. I stare into the beast's animalistic amber gaze.

It’s such a terrifying beast. I love that.

“You're saying we can trust it,” I surmise quietly.

Brigid shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe not entirely, with how cursed he is. Not until you five are bound by the gods and your curses broken,” she adds.

She has no idea my quintet's curses are already mysteriously being broken—most likely because the gods are messing with us. We've kept that to ourselves.

“I only wish Baelfire was less at war with his inner beast. Even cursed, it looks out for him and those he cares about, whether he'll admit it or not. He's a fierce dragon, and I couldn't be prouder. I'll be even more proud when he's finally in harmony with the damn thing,” Brigid adds, laughing.

Baelfire's dragon chuffs, sending hot, dry air at us as it narrows its gaze on me.

I arch a brow. “Are you going to give me my mate back anytime soon?”

It makes a whining, growling sound that definitely means no .

“Brat,” I mumble.

Brigid laughs and turns to smile at me and my quintet. “I would like to show you all something tomorrow. If you're up for it.”

Silas frowns. “Please tell me it isn’t another gods-awful fourteen-mile hike through the mountains. I recall you tricking us into that when I was eight.”

“Oh yes, the hike from hell,” Crypt nods. “It was quite fun to watch from Limbo.”

“I had blisters for days,” Everett grimaces.

Brigid snorts. “It was character-building for you spoiled little legacies, but this is better than a hike. I think it will be beneficial.”

She gives me a meaningful look, which tells me it has something to do with me freeing the humans. I nod, unsure how she could help with a complex plan she knows nothing about.

Brigid says good night and leaves me to admire my dragon. The rest of my quintet talks quietly, occasionally arguing, as usual. Meanwhile, the dragon rests its great chin on the edge of the deck, turning it so it can watch me better out of one eye.

“I like looking at you, too,” I grin, stroking the warm scales on its snout. “Such a handsome dragon.”

It rumbles happily low in its throat.

“Is it growling at you?” Everett asks, glaring at the beast.

“That’s called purring.”

Except now, my dragon has turned its attention on the others and bares long teeth, hissing in warning.

“You guys should go inside. My dragon is territorial and fussy right now.” I pet it again, loving the warmth of these sleek, gleaming scales. “Aren't you? Yes, you are.”

Silas gives me an exasperated look. “It is not a puppy, ima sangfluir .”

I look over my shoulder at him. “You're right. It’s a twenty-five-ton, fire-breathing monster with razor blades for teeth that might fry all three of you. I want to get Baelfire back, and your presence isn’t helping.”

I can tell they aren’t happy about it, but Silas and Everett return to the house while Crypt slips into Limbo. I can still feel him nearby as I continue to pet and soothe the beast. Its undivided, intense attention is entirely on me again.

I lean forward to press a light kiss to the top of its snout. “Listen. I like every part of Baelfire. Since you are one of those parts, that means I’ll always like you. I mean, you are a mythically terrifying paragon of deadly beauty. What’s not to like about that?”

The dragon rumbles louder, nuzzling me now.

“But Baelfire is mine . You aren't going to take him away from me,” I warn seriously, still stroking his scales. “Ever. Got it?”

The massive beast huffs.

“Don't test me. I want him back.”

To my surprise, Baelfire's dragon shudders and begins to morph, shrinking and unshifting so quickly that I almost stumble when Baelfire staggers against me. He's smeared in dirt and very disoriented, judging by the way he blinks at his surroundings.

He focuses on me and seems relieved, but I'm preoccupied with checking out the gorgeous naked legacy in front of me.

Damn. Muscles on muscles. He’s like a wall of golden strength.

And that cock. I want to lick it.

Baelfire huffs a laugh, still getting oriented. “Should I pose so you get a better view? You're more than welcome to take pictures, Raincloud—as long as I get to take some of you, too. Also naked.”

I grin up at him, relieved to see that he's himself. But he doesn't miss how I'm starting to shiver in the cold of the night. He quickly scoops me into his arms, heading inside.

“Welcome back,” I murmur, brushing dirt off one of his broad, golden shoulders. “Did you hunt?”

“Actually, I don't remember what I?—”

Baelfire cuts off with a loud snarl, whirling to face Silas and Everett, who are waiting in the hall that leads to the mother-in-law’s suite.

“Relax, dragon,” Everett begins with an eye roll.

But Baelfire is getting hot. Literally hot. His skin is almost uncomfortable to touch, and when I peer into his face, I see how on the brink he is, a feral gleam in his eyes as he bares his teeth.

He’s extremely on edge.

I pat Bael's shoulder as comfortingly as I can. “How can I help?”

He frowns, backing up from the hall and taking a deep breath. “I don't know. My territorial side is going fucking crazy. I just…I need a second alone with you.” As usual, his shifter emotions swing drastically, and he beams down at me excitedly. “Hey, wanna see my old room?”

I nod. Maybe this will help his beast calm down more, but I’m also interested to see what his old room looks like. I look at the others over his shoulder as he turns to stride away.

“We'll come back to bed soon,” I assure them.

Tell your pet to mind himself. If he loses control again and hurts you … Silas warns telepathically.

He won’t, I assure him.

Baelfire turns down a dark hallway I haven’t seen yet.

Don’t stay up too late. You need a lot more rest, Everett grumbles.

I grin to myself. My perfectionistic ice elemental doesn’t like having our beauty sleep getting interrupted.

“Poor fuckers are going to awkwardly lay on opposite sides of the bed in total silence while they wait for you to get back,” Bael laughs, opening a door to the right.

He slips inside, still carrying me. I should probably remind him that I like to walk on my own, but fuck it. He's warm, and I’m enjoying his slight singed cedar scent. When Baelfire flips on the light, my brows bounce up.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, I used to be into photography. Hey, I’m gonna shower off this shit really fast, if you don't mind.”

I nod, distracted by his old bedroom as he sets me down.

It’s simple—a big bed, a dresser, a desk, and a small bookshelf. The bookshelf displays a few books beside mementos like sand in a bottle, souvenir shot glasses, magnets, and so on.

There’s also a dreamcatcher by the door, which explains why I can no longer sense Crypt’s presence in Limbo nearby—he can’t get into this room.

But my attention quickly returns to the walls of Bael’s room.

They’re covered in breathtaking photos of remote landscapes. Awe-inspiring mountains, a tempestuous ocean, a desert glowing in rich sunlight, dazzling lightning storms, towering red rock formations, and countless others. Most of them are taken from staggering heights, which I guess is an option when you have wings to get to the very tops of mountains.

I’m so caught up in admiring scenes unlike anything I’ve ever experienced that I nearly bump into Baelfire’s desk. On it is a camera case, a brochure for Everbound University, a pile of old homework, and a small jar full of…

“Are those your scales?” I ask, knowing the dragon shifter will hear me just fine from the small attached bathroom where he's just stepping out of the shower.

“Yeah,” he says, toweling off as he walks up behind me. “Weird fact, dragon shifters treat their first shed scales kind of like humans treat…” He scratches his neck. “Shit, I don't know enough about humans. It’s like baby teeth, I guess? They're sentimental, so my siren dad stuck them in that jar.”

I examine them, remembering my conversation with Silas about why he wants Baelfire's scales.

But when I turn to broach the subject, I again get very fucking distracted. Mostly because Baelfire is studying me with a startling intensity, and he is clean, naked, and completely erect.

It should be a sin how fuckable all of my matches are.

“Small talk seems to do it for you,” I note teasingly.

“ You do it for me. Fuck, I just…”

His breathing is growing rapid. I frown when I notice he's shaking slightly.

“Bael?”

“Can I please hold you for a bit?” he whispers hoarsely.

Again, with the please. It's like he knows just how weak I am for it.

I step into his embrace, going breathless when he drops back and rolls so I’m beneath him on the big bed. He buries his face against my neck.

“I fucking hate losing myself like that,” he admits quietly, squeezing me against his deliciously hard chest. “I had no idea if I’d hurt you, but I couldn't get a grip to find out. I was just trapped in a dark corner somewhere in my head with no control and no fucking idea when I’d get myself back.”

I toy with his damp hair. He’s still trembling slightly. Did something happen to him while he was shifted that's causing this? Or was he just that worried?

“You don't remember anything after your dragon took over?” I check.

“Nope. He's a fucking hog like that.”

When I trail my fingers down the side of his face, Bael groans, pulling back to peer at me. His molten gaze trails all over me, and the sharp hunger on his handsome face quickly fills me with a matching heat.

He grits his teeth, dropping his face against my neck again. “Fuck. What's going on with your scent, Mayflower? It's so much stronger than usual, and gods, it’s driving me fucking insane .”

He nips playfully at my neck, sending goosebumps rippling all over. Cocooned in this sensual heat, I can't resist dragging my hands down his smooth back, around, and up over his chest and shoulders.

Baelfire shivers, panting like my touch is too much for him.

And then he bites me.

Full-on bites me—drawing blood in the spot where shifters mark their mates.