Page 38 of Divine Fate (Cursed Legacies #4)

37

SILAS

Being bound to my blood blossom is different this time.

It’s the difference between being bound to Maven’s shadow heart and being bound to her actual heart. I doubt our stunning demigoddess is even aware of the effect it’s had on the rest of us yet, but the difference from our last bonding is staggering.

Before, it was incredible. The best thing to ever happen to me.

This time, when the bond snapped into place, it instantly became an unrivaled, ethereal epiphany. A divine lightning strike directly to the soul, sealing my heart and fate to Maven’s.

The newlybound urges are far stronger this time, too. Despite the last day and a half spent relishing Maven and enjoying every moment of her pleasure, whether it was caused by me or my quintet members, I’m still aching for more of her. The only madness that remains from my curse is the insanity she inspires in me.

Yet once again, my curse is finally gone.

It’s poignant, this sensation of sanity. Even something as simple as eating with my quintet is blessedly peaceful as we gather around the table to eat the casserole Baelfire made— except for Crypt, who takes to studying Maven’s new etherium blade.

Although his markings have been lighting up as his curse affects him, I’ve noted that it’s been less frequent since we were rebound to our keeper. Considering the almost unmanageable boost in power I can sense racing inside my veins, I’ve decided he must also be stronger overall and suffering slightly less.

Still, I don’t envy him for his unbreakable curse, hence why I’ve been meddling with a reverium potion. He just so happened to leave his leather jacket on the floor unattended yesterday while he was fucking our gorgeous keeper, and I just so happened to find several sprigs of the colorless herb in one of the pockets.

Soothing the pain from his curse is his only reprieve. Perhaps I feel I owe him that, knowing what I now know of the Nightmare Prince’s nightmarish past.

Having my curse gone again…gods above, I feel like myself again for the first time in six long, wretched months. No more voices ripping my head apart. No more glowing herons or imps or other figments of my imagination fluttering about. All that remains is the same burning thirst for Maven and her delectably powerful blood—but then, my perfectly vicious keeper doesn’t mind that, so neither do I.

I bask in the simple pleasure of owning my own mind as we eat, the others exchanging small talk until there’s a firm knock on the front door. Baelfire uses his shifter speed to open it quickly, revealing Asher Douglas. The mercenary is no longer bundled in as many winter clothes, since the temperatures are slowly returning to normal in the wake of Everett’s curse being broken.

Douglas is fully recovered from everything that happened at the elite safe haven and doesn’t spare the rest of us a passing glance as he looks over Baelfire’s shoulder at Everett.

“Well?” he asks pointedly, nodding at the letter Everett was reading.

Everett sighs. “Just kill him and be done with it.”

“Kill who?” I frown.

“The crackpot caster who’s obsessed with your keeper,” Douglas huffs. “He’s been gathering followers outside the castle ever since she decided to fucking broadcast her true nature on live television. Which, by the way, what a reckless way to?—”

“Hold up,” Baelfire cuts him off with a glare. “Someone else is obsessed with Maven? Fuck that—my mate already has four obsessive freaks. We don’t have room for more. Who is this caster?”

Douglas notices the food we’re eating and glances into the kitchen, though he still can’t enter thanks to the wards remaining in place. “Got any leftovers? I’m starving.”

“No,” I say at the same time as the others—except for Maven, who arches a brow.

“We do have food leftover, though,” she points out.

Crypt finally sets down the etherium knife. “That’s for you, love. I didn’t go searching for the potatoes you like just to have them shoved down the gullet of someone who shot you.”

“I apologized for that,” Douglas grumbles. “Over-apologized, if you ask me.”

“We didn’t,” Everett says coldly. Then the elemental sighs and replaces his reading glasses to skim the letter again, his brow furrowed as he addresses the rest of us. “Lillian slipped this under the door for me. The crackpot Douglas is talking about is a cult leader named Orlando Coates. She met him before, a long time ago, when he and his cult members tried to take up residence in one of Syntyche’s temples. He’s apparently obsessed with Sytyche and teaches his followers that since she was the firstborn of the celestial triplets, she should be the queen of Paradise and ruler of the world and a bunch of other lunatic shit like that. Lillian wrote this to warn me that Coates is beginning to resort to desperate lengths to get our attention so he can finally meet you,” Everett adds, glancing at Maven.

She tips her head. “Define desperate lengths.”

“He’s telling all his followers and the other people who’ve gathered to Everbound’s safe haven that he’s going to make some big sacrifice at noon in your honor,” Asher Douglas grunts from the doorway, still eyeing the casserole on the stove. “He’s also building a temple for you.”

“For me?”

The mercenary nods, scratching the tattoo on the column of his throat. “Yep.”

“He’s fucking insane.”

“Yep.” Asher looks back at Everett. “Killing Orlando Coates will piss off his surprisingly large cult. They might stir up the other Reformists and Nether humans, too. You guys can only hole up in here for so long.”

“Then kill the cult off, too,” Everett shrugs, indifferent.

“Before they become more of a problem,” Crypt agrees easily, spinning Maven’s etherium knife on the table.

My brows go up, and I exchange a look with Baelfire, who looks equally surprised. Gods above. These are the two who were running the show while we were out of order? I’ve gathered that Everett changed a bit over the last six months, but a full extermination order is extreme, even for us.

Meanwhile, my blood blossom examines Everett without giving away her thoughts.

“You’re fucked up,” Douglas scowls. “I’m not killing off an entire cult just because you don’t like the idea of them near your keeper.”

Everett takes off his glasses again. “You said yourself that they’re obsessed with her. Obsession makes people dangerous.”

“No shit. Exhibit A,” the mercenary scoffs, gesturing at our entire quintet from the threshold where he still can’t enter.

“I’ll meet him,” Maven decides, standing from the table.

We all stand, too, our immediate protests echoing through the quintet bond as we talk over each other. But she cuts it all off with one firm look, and then she speaks telepathically to us.

The cult leader could be useful. I’m not turning down allies before we take down Amadeus.

Take down Amadeus? That leaves us all staring at her in surprise as she tells Asher Douglas we’ll be right out and shuts the door. By the time she turns back toward us, I’ve caught up.

“You’ve only said you returned for us. In truth, you want to kill the Entity?” I check.

Maven pulls a folded-up piece of paper out of her pocket and unfolds it, handing it to me to pass around as she confidently says, “I need to end him if we want any kind of permanent future together. Which I do.”

Crypt, Everett, Baelfire, and I gather around to get a good look at this list.

Crypt grins. “Written in crayon, as all good hit lists are.”

My attention slips to the end, and I nearly laugh. “ Sangfluir , ‘rest in peace’ is a phrase typically used to describe the fate of someone who died.”

“Someone did,” she grins, gesturing at herself like it's funny.

Gods above.

Crypt coughs like he would laugh if the situation were different. Baelfire and I stare at her, and I’m positive that, like me, he’s considering the possibility that we may actually need to get her into therapy.

Everett pinches the bridge of his nose. “Nope. Too soon.”

Our reactions to her tasteless joke don't dampen her amusement. My blood blossom just grins wider as she folds the paper back up, giving us a brief glimpse of an intricate sketch of a map on the back before it disappears back into one of her hoodie pockets.

Then Maven grows serious. “Aside from protecting ourselves, defeating Amadeus will change everything for legacies and humans. The Nether can return to what it once was, and monsters wouldn’t try to flee into the mortal realm anymore. It would bring peace for everyone, but especially us.”

She briefly explains some of her most recently returned memories—everything Galene told her about how Amadeus came to be, and how that, in turn, brought about Maven herself.

When she finishes, she waits expectantly for us to agree or disagree about taking on Amadeus, but I’m distracted. Some of her wording makes me wonder if she believes…

“You are far more than a machination of the gods, ima sangfluir ,” I murmur. “Tell me you know this.”

She looks away, quiet for a moment before she looks back at us with that beautifully fierce determination that is pure Maven.

“Maybe I was born for a purpose, but I don’t fucking care. No matter how I came to exist, I choose my own fate now. And I choose us. Killing Amadeus is just a fringe benefit and the best way to protect the legacies I love—” She sees our excited expressions and quickly tacks on, “to fuck.”

Such a stubborn ending to such a serious, beautiful statement draws surprised laughs from us. Baelfire wraps his arms around our keeper, spinning her around like a giddy fool.

“Stop being so fucking cute,” he groans, setting Maven down to kiss her forehead. “It’s making me hard.”

I roll my eyes. “Everything she does makes you hard, you oversexed lizard.”

“Like you’re any better, you horny bloodsucker,” Everett scoffs.

Crypt grins. “Now, now. Let’s not pretend any of our cocks aren’t utterly mesmerized by our lovely keeper.”

Baelfire shakes his head. “Way to word it. You say the weirdest fucking shit.”

“Him?” Everett gawks at Baelfire. “Seriously? Am I imagining the time you opened your big fat mouth to ask about the temperature of my sperm, or do you just have no self-awareness at all?”

Maven’s laughter takes all of our attention at once, and my heart picks up its pace when I see the smile curving her beautiful lips. “He asked about your what now?”

Everett’s face pinkens. “It was nothing. Your shifter just doesn’t have a fucking filter.”

“I, for one, still await your answer to Baelfire’s very reasonable question,” Crypt says, patting Everett’s shoulder.

Everett slaps his hand away, growing redder. “Shut up .”

“Boo, tell me once and for all,” Bael begins. “When his popsicle pops off, is it like?—”

Everett freezes Baelfire’s mouth, huffing and adjusting his coat before he faces Maven. “ Anyway , back to the topic at hand.”

“Your sperm,” I suggest, unable to resist.

The scarred elemental glares menacingly at me before turning a far softer look on our keeper. “You really want to kill Amadeus?”

Maven is still grinning about our antics, but nods. “Or whatever the closest thing to death is for him at this point. So long as his reign ends and you four are safe from him.”

She’d be safer, too, Crypt reasons through the bond, but only to me, Everett, and Baelfire.

My thoughts exactly, Everett replies. We’re nothing to the Entity. He would only hurt us to get to her. He must know she’s back now, so it’s only a matter of time before he makes a move.

If he dares try to harm her in any way, his fate is signed in blood , I chip in, irritated by the very idea of Maven’s Undead would-be father figure trying to get to her ever again.

Baelfire nods.

Our keeper looks between each of us, obviously aware that we’re communicating without her. She’s always been impressively observant, and none of us is particularly gifted at hiding our emotions the way she is, so I’m not surprised when she looks satisfied, easily deciphering our feelings on the matter.

“Good. Then let’s get another pawn on the board.”

She means the cult leader.

As much as I adore my blood blossom’s brutal practicality, I still don’t like the idea of her leaving this apartment. Whether it’s because of my far stronger newlybound urges, or because we’ve just barely started to recover from a hellish six months, I want to keep Maven spirited away here. Here, we are guarded by wards, and we can adore and tend to her to our heart’s content.

Out there…

“If any of the freaks out there do try to hurt you, can I light them all on fire?” Baelfire checks.

“They won’t,” she says confidently, leaving the kitchen to go look for more clothes and boots in her room.

When she’s out of earshot, the rest of my quintet and I regard one another.

Baelfire shrugs. “Fuck it. If anyone makes a move toward her that we don’t like?—”

“If they even so much as look at her in a way we don’t like,” Crypt corrects, glaring out one of the windows as his markings light up repeatedly.

“They’re dead,” Everett agrees.

I nod.