Cursed Heritage (The Arcana Pack Chronicles Book 14) by Emilia Hartley

Author:Emilia Hartley [Hartley, Emilia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

9

IVY RAE

I nervously covered the mark on my neck with my hand. Thoughts of what happened the other night turned over and over in my mind. I couldn’t make sense of anything that’d happened, and Holden wasn’t around to answer any questions.

After the sight of my own blood had knocked me out, Holden must have taken me home somehow because I’d woken in my own apartment. A part of me was slightly disappointed that I hadn’t woken up in his bed, but I understood that I hadn’t been in a position to consent to that, and Holden had respected it.

It would have been nice if he’d been able to stick around and answer a few questions. Instead, I’d found a note on the kitchen island. Once again, his mother had perfect timing. She’d called him away to deal with something on Pack territory.

I threw the note down and tossed myself in the shower. Thankfully, Holden had cleaned up the mating mark on my neck. There was no blood to wash away, but every time my hands grazed the sensitive mark, I shuddered with desire.

“Bro, this is the weirdest thing to happen to me all week,” I shouted in the shower because I knew no one could hear me.

There was a Goblin Market vendor hunting me down as if I’d personally stolen from him, this strange man who kept appearing wherever I turned. And yet, this mark somehow outdid the weird vendor’s attempts at being intimidating and cryptic, because this was all I could think about now.

Outside the shower, I debated how I was going to cover this up. Would a glamour hold up under the prying gaze of Seelie nobles? Because I wasn’t about to slap makeup over this. Even the slightest touch set it ablaze—in a sensual way—and I wasn’t about to pound makeup over it.

In the end, I decided on a scarf which was wildly conspicuous all by itself. Who wore a scarf, even a silk one, in the heat of a New York summer? Stepping outside, the humidity rushed at me and reminded me why I wanted to wear the least amount of fabric possible.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered under my breath.

“You called?” Holden’s voice reached out to me.

I jumped, startled. Spinning, I watched him saunter up to me with his hands in his pockets. He wore faded worker’s denim as if the heat and humidity in the air could do nothing to him. I scowled jealously.

Jam packed with untampered fae magic, and I still couldn’t control the weather. It was an abysmal default in my design. Then again, perhaps it was karma coming to bite Beryl in the ass. If that was the case, then I wanted to take up an argument with the Fates. There was no reason that I had to suffer for the things a dead woman did.

Was Beryl dead, though? If I lived and breathed, then would she ever truly be dead? I wanted to believe I could be someone else, apart from the awful legacy that Beryl left behind, but I could never quite separate myself from it.

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