Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

41. Maven

41

MAVEN

Some Time Later

Gentle warmth permeates my body. I open my eyes and stare at a rich blue sky filled with dancing constellations. Sunlight glows around me, highlighting golden flowers and long strands of grass that wave slightly in a soft breeze, brushing against me.

I feel strange. Not only because I don’t know where the fuck I am, but also because…

I’m not sure who I am.

Sitting up, I take stock of my surroundings. To my left is an orchard filled with trees hanging with some kind of spiral fruit I can’t put a name to. Tiny, faintly glowing winged figures flit about. I watch as a massive elk with silver fur and golden antlers ambles peacefully through the orchard, golden flowers blooming wherever it steps.

To my right is a picturesque cottage with a gold-thatched roof, a blooming garden, and oversized butterflies everywhere. It’s so bizarrely idyllic that it takes me a moment of staring before I realize a young man is lounging on a massive flower in the garden, reading from a leather-bound grimoire.

His hair is white, the top tied up in a knot and the rest shorn. I think his face is handsome, but what the hell do I know? I can’t remember anything to compare it to. His skin is a pale sage green, and he wears multiple necklaces, bracelets, rings, earrings, and a shiny septum piercing studded with emeralds.

When I catch the man’s attention, his face lights up. He stands and drops the grimoire. It hovers safely to settle on the flower, which closes around it and disappears into the ground.

Pretty sure that’s not fucking normal.

But again, no memories for comparison. So whatever.

“At last! You're awake,” he says with a brilliant smile as he approaches.

No shit. "I don’t remember anything.”

"Ah. That would be a side effect of apotheosis. I'm afraid that turning into one of us has a learning curve—but don't worry, I expect your memories will start to return soon after your mother arrives. I’ve already sent a magical summons announcing that you’re conscious.”

My mother?

I don’t understand, but I glance down for the first time to see that I'm wearing a plain white dress with no sleeves. No shoes, no jewelry, nothing of note on my entire person—except for the tip of a scar that appears to run down the center of my chest. I stare at it because something about it feels wrong. Like it should be different.

Or more like something is…absent.

"I feel strange,” I repeat aloud.

“Again, another result of your arrival here.”

“Which is where, exactly?”

The man smiles gently, offering a hand to help me stand up. I start to accept, but when his fingers come near mine, I jerk my hand away. I can’t explain why the idea of touching him makes my nerves clench, especially because nothing else about him makes me feel uneasy, but I opt to stand without his assistance.

“Your rightful home,” he replies to my question, gesturing at our ethereal surroundings. “And you’ve certainly earned it. The others have had so many opinions ever since you entered the mortal world—especially our dear queen. But I want you to know that I, for one, am exceedingly pleased that you qualified.”

I stare at him deadpan and wait, because surely he knows how vague and unhelpful that was.

The man throws his head back with a bright laugh. “My word, you really do take after her! How amusing. Forgive me—you deserve an introduction. My name is Koa. You could call me Uncle Koa, if you like, for I am the lover of your aunt.”

Yikes. I was not a fan of that last sentence.

I still don’t know what’s happening, but I do know one thing: with every second that passes, I’m starting to feel torn. Because while this place is gorgeous, and I feel oddly safe and at ease…something still feels odd.

I frown at the dancing stars in the sky. “I’m missing something important.”

Or is it multiple somethings? My chest aches, so I rub the scar there.

“Your memories,” Koa suggests with another kind smile. “But as I said, those will return in short order. Your soul has been through so much that it is only natural that you will need time to settle in this plane of existence. For now, please come with me. We’re all so eager to greet you, dear Maven—we’ve watched your progress, after all, and it’s been nearly three millennia since we welcomed a new goddess to Paradise.”

New goddess? I don’t need memories to instinctively know that idea repels me.

“Fuck, no. Hard pass.”

A tinkling laugh nearby makes us both turn, and I watch as a woman in a flowing white dress approaches. Her golden hair falls in cascades well past her hips. The closer she gets, the more I can see that her eyes are a bizarre kaleidoscope of swirling colors, constantly shifting through the full spectrum of the rainbow.

She’s almost nauseatingly beautiful, yet also oddly familiar. Have I ever seen her face before?

“You’ve never seen my face, my fearless one,” she replies to my thoughts matter-of-factly. “I’m afraid I had to have some method of disguise in the mortal realm.”

I stare at the woman for another second and then glance at Koa. “You summoned her?”

Meaning…this is my mother?

“No. He summoned me,” another woman’s voice says from behind me.

And I know this voice because, with a jolt, I remember hearing it when everything else faded to black. Memories of who and what I was begin returning to me, so by the time I turn to face the owner of that voice, I’m not surprised to see the Reaper herself push back the hood of her cloak.

Tall, dressed in swirling shadows, with dark hair and pitch-black eyes. Skin so pale, she could be a fresh corpse. A massive, wicked-looking scythe rests on one of the goddess’s shoulders as she stares back at me without a change in her expression?—

Until her lips curl up slowly in a chilling smile.

Something about her face also feels like I should know it.

Things click together as more memories rush to the surface. With a start, I realize Syntyche’s face is so fucking familiar because I’ve seen it in mirrors countless times.

Because I look exactly like her.

Because she’s my mother.

Thank you for reading Twisted Soul!

I promise that the fourth and final book of Cursed Legacies will have answers and, eventually, a happily ever after.

In the meantime, I really do apologize for the cliffhanger. Kind of. What can I say? This was always intended in Maven’s story.