Unveiled: The Cursed Trilogy, Book Three by Betty Legend (recommended ebook reader txt) 📗

downstairs or in the workout room, so I assume they’re working on the rooftop. Enjoying the time to myself, I take a walk on the beach. Outside the house, I look up at the rooftop. As if they sense me, my guys wave and blow kisses, warming my heart.

With the sunshine casting rays between the clouds, I walk along the water, letting its cool waves touch my feet. It’s peaceful on Mordeeves Island, very different from New York and its busyness. New York isn’t where I would choose to live, but I knew it was where I would be able to have a career. Now that my career has blossomed, I believe I could live here at Killian’s and use my apartment at times when I need to be in the city. I no longer feel I need to be tied to the city that never sleeps.

A sparkly shell catches my eye, and I lean down to gather it in my hands. With the sand on my fingers, I wiggle it off, then smooth them over the colorful rings along the shell. At this moment, I’m happy, truly happy. I’ve begun my own family, falling for five gorgeous supernatural men who make me feel special every day. However, there is still one being who would destroy it all for his own selfish reasons. The devil turned on his own kind to break down the veil between his world and ours. If or when it becomes time, I have to believe we’ll succeed against him because I can’t bring myself to imagine a world without the men I love or a world without magic.

Putting the shell back, I continue walking. Farther down the beach, I see a very special Fae sitting with his legs crossed, meditating. Long white hair lifts in the breeze, and his bright orange Hawaiian shirt stands out with his white shorts. Quietly approaching, I smile as he looks at me and pats the sand next to him.

“Fairy painter, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

Black eyes take me in, reading me as he usually does.

“You feel content, strong, loved, and angry.”

Sitting back on my hands, I nod.

“That’s all true.”

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m angry at the devil for betraying supernaturals, for hurting my ancestor, and for sending Holy Accolades and demons after us.”

“Hmm, yes, I see.” Ancor gathers sand in his hand, lets it fall in the breeze, then mutters under his breath. “The devil fears your power.”

“Mine?”

“Yes. Druid witches have always been the most sacred and powerful of all supernaturals. You’re connected to all.”

“What about angels?”

“Very powerful indeed. Can you imagine a druid witch and an angel having a child? What a glorious creature it would be.”

Ancor is a brilliant man, but he speaks in riddles sometimes.

“I suppose that would be a powerful supernatural. Do you know of any?”

“Someday, I will.”

Sitting up, I cross my arms over my knees.

“Is that from a vision? Have you seen an angel and druid witch in the future? Does that mean we beat the devil?”

“Always so curious, fairy painter. What will be, will be.”

“Is that why you’re always so content? What will be, will be,” I repeat.

“Seeing is accepting.”

“What do you see?”

Ancor looks dreamily at the ocean. “So much.”

“Sometimes, I’m scared. I don’t want the devil to find any of us before we’ve been able to bond and break the curse.”

Ancor reaches over and places his hand on mine.

“The devil fears you for good reason, fairy painter. Trust in your journey.” He puts his other hand on his chest. “Trust in your magic.”

Magic stirs between our hands, my water magic coming to life.

“I will. I promise.”

“I know you will not disappoint me. You are a gift to us all.”

Tears water in my eyes. I miss my father.

Ancor tilts his head. “Of course. I had forgotten.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a leather bracelet with a tiny, thick glass bulb dangling from it. Inside the bulb is sparkling and colorful flower dust. “It contains your father’s essence.”

Taking it from him, I stare at it as a tear escapes. “Thank you, Ancor. I appreciate this very much.”

“I know. You’re sharing it with me now.”

Laughing, I lean forward and kiss him on his wrinkled cheek.

“You’ve been incredible to me. Like a father-figure. Thank you.”

“Dane would be proud of his fairy painter, as am I.”

“Do you think I’ve reached my full potential with my magic?”

Ancor chuckles. “Like this ocean, you have depths which have never been seen.”

“I’ll take that as a no. I have a lot to learn still, don’t I?”

“Mmm.” He nods. “We live a lifetime and never come close to learning enough.”

“If I still have skills and magic to tap into, should I be worried? I’m not dangerous to others or myself, am I?”

With his hands resting on his knees, he smiles, baring his tea-stained teeth.

“A benevolent soul does not hurt others. Only evil should fear you.”

“But my ancestor hurt supernaturals for decades with her spell, and I don’t believe she had an evil soul.”

“Are you alive?”

“Hm?” My brows wrinkle. “I am unless you tell me this is all some kind of Matrix dream state.” I chuckle, but the reference passes over Ancor. “Never mind, yes, I’m alive.”

Black eyes stare into mine, and I sense feelings of hope and affection as if he’s directing those emotions toward me—at least, I think it’s him directing it.

“Cataleya protected her child and every child after. Your bloodline and magic live on from her instinct to protect. She created a spell that slowed the loss of magic rather than destroying it all until druid magic could find you.”

“Well, when you put it that way...”

“You have an understanding now.”

“Yes, I do.” It’s much easier to have a conversation with someone when they can read your emotions. “My ancestor was wise and protected her child and supernaturals the best way she could imagine.”

Ancor lifts off the sand, slowly bringing himself to his feet, and dips his chin at me as I stand.

“We shall