Page 26 of Gilded Curses

Orin returned to his room and locked the door behind him. He pulled the drapes closed, stripped out of his clothes, and climbed into bed.

He had no intention of going to meet that woman in the garden. While he was a little hungry for the sexual energy that fed a dark fae, he only wanted one woman, and she wasn’t waiting for him in the garden.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The next morning, a group of women bustled into Sahira’s room as the clock in the corner chimed ten. She’d already been up for a couple of hours, prowling around the space, but there wasn’t much to see beyond the white walls, the large bed with its deep blue cover, and a small bathroom.

The closet was full of colorful clothes, but none were as elaborate as the dress she wore last night. She’d enjoyed a shower and scrubbed herself before finally rinsing off and stepping out.

Afterward, she’d chosen a pair of black pants and a yellow blouse that buttoned to her neck, but she left the last buttons undone to breathe better. After she was dressed, she removed the protective spells she’d placed over the doors. There was no way anyone would come through those doors during the night without her knowledge.

More than a few times, she prowled to the door separating her and Orin. She’d reach for the knob before telling herself he had to come to her and heading back the other way.

She couldn’t forget the look in his eyes when she’d asked him if he’d figured his shit out last night. It was clear he hadn’t and was as confused as always, but those crow-black eyes had simmered with a hunger that made her skin prickle with awareness.

She’d almost thrown all caution to the wind and gone to his room. They had no idea what would happen to them here; she might as well embrace life while she could, but she was so tired of the endless back and forth between them.

And she was still pissed he’d tried to make her think he was having sex with all those women when he wasn’t. She’d always known Orin liked his games and often toyed with others, but that was beyond messed up… even for him.

So, she’d stayed here, aching and alone as she tried to sort everything out in her mind. But she had no idea what to make of any of this.

Now, with a group of women bustling around her as they held up clothes before pulling them away and fussing with her hair, Sahira found her temper becoming surlier by the second.

She kept her exasperation hidden while they worked, and the guards looming in the doorway made it clear they wouldn’t tolerate anything less than complete obedience from her. Finally, the women settled on a deep maroon dress, and Sahira removed her clothes.

When the women tugged the dress over her head, the bodice hugged her upper body while the skirt fell close to her legs. The material was more lightweight than it looked and as soft as silk as it shimmered in the light.

This place was a giant hellhole with a bunch of monsters running it, but they made beautiful clothing. One bonus for the psychopaths, she decided.

The dress also had pockets, which was another bonus for the crazy, game-playing, liked-to-bet-their-own-kind immortals. She dipped her fingers into the pockets and wiggled them while contemplating casting a spell to make one of these women spill their guts about this place.

The guards in the doorway caused her fingers to clench instead of working their magic. They would immediately stop anything the woman had to say… probably by killing her.

Sahira didn’t trust anyone in this realm, but she suspected these servants in white were as much a prisoner as she and her friends. She wouldn’t be the cause of one of them dying unless they gave her a reason, and then she’d gladly kill them too.

When the women shifted their focus to her hair, Sahira waved them away. “I’ll do it.”

She ignored their protests as she twisted it into her customary bun and took the pins they produced to keep it in place.

“Oh, we could have done something far more lovely with it,” one of the women said.

“I’ve had enough of being lovely,” Sahira retorted.

A few women raised their eyebrows, but the others hurried away.

“This way,” the one she’d spoken with said irritably.

Sahira rolled her eyes at the woman’s back. Did they really expect her to be happy about all this?

They’d been thrown into Hell and raked across its coals while in the Cursed Realm and Barren Lands. Did these idiots think all this primping and the elaborate meals would make up for that, or were they putting on an act for the guards?

With a sigh, she followed them from the room. She was eager to see her friends and learn more about this place. The more they knew, the better their chances of finding a weakness and breaking free.

Orin emerged from his room as one of the guards shut the door behind her. He’d brushed his short hair back from his face to expose its elegant angles; it emphasized how handsome he was.

He wore body-hugging, black fae pants and a white tunic with green edging. The contrast of the white against his black eyes and hair made them stand out more.

Her stomach flipped as desire burst through her. Damn it, why did he have to be so good-looking, irresistible, and such an asshole?