Page 86 of Gilded Curses

Orin’s hand fisted as his blood pressure throbbed in his temples. Keep it under control. Don’t think about her. Focus only on what needs to be done here, or you won’t make it back to her.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

“Little bitch!” Desmond exclaimed when he turned to find Alda standing a few feet away. He was completely naked as he threw his arms in the air but did not embrace her. Instead, he swung the whip out and caught her on the cheek. “I’m sorry! My mistake.”

Judging by his smile, it was anything but a mistake, as Alda refrained from touching the reddening welt on her cheek. The fact she didn’t make a sound led Orin to believe this wasn’t the first time Desmond had made a “mistake.”

Orin loathed men who abused women. He’d done some pretty shitty things in his lifetime; some of those things were to the woman who’d come to mean the most to him, which he’d regret for the rest of his life, but he didn’t lay his hands on women like this.

If they asked for certain things, he was more than happy to give it to them if it enhanced their pleasure, but neither of these women had asked for this. And out of all the things he’d done, he’d never forced himself on a woman.

He hadn’t cared for almost all the women who had shared his bed, but he had standards and morals, even if most didn’t think he did. He doubted most of the women Desmond bedded were willing, which was unacceptable to him.

Slipping around behind the man, Orin studied the whimpering woman hanging from the wall before shifting his attention back to his prey. As fast as he could, he slid his arm around the man’s throat, jerked his head back, and drew his blade across Desmond’s jugular.

Now, it was Alda’s turn to smile as blood spurted from Desmond, and his hands flew to his throat as he attempted to staunch the flow. His eyes rolled as terror emanated from him.

Letting go of Desmond, Orin watched the man stagger into the wall as he released the shadows. He also smiled as he sauntered over to stand beside Alda.

He didn’t worry Desmond would call out for the guards; he’d ensured that wouldn’t happen by taking out his windpipe. Desmond’s eyes widened on them as blood gushed between his fingers.

It wasn’t a lethal wound, but he was losing blood too fast to heal himself and was too panicked or weakened to unleash his ability to disorient his enemy. With blood spilling down his arm and dripping onto the floor, Desmond lurched to the side and fell on his bed.

He tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgling, wet sound; Alda’s smile grew. After a few more seconds, Desmond lost consciousness.

“How do I keep him from using his power on me when he wakes?” Orin asked.

“Blindfold him,” Alda answered. “We can’t use our ability if we can’t see. We have to be able to focus it on someone.”

“Good to know.”

Aurora jerked against her bonds and made a strangled sound against the ball in her mouth.

“Can we trust her enough to let her down?” Orin asked.

“Yes,” Alda said. “There are few servants you can’t trust to help you. We’re tired of being their prisoners and playthings.”

“Hopefully, that will change after tonight.”

While he worked to untie Aurora from the wall and lowered her to the ground on her wobbly legs, Alda bound Desmond, blindfolded him, and rolled him off the bed and onto the floor. When she finished, she helped Aurora into the bathroom. A minute later, the sound of running water filled the room, and Alda returned.

“He needs to wake soon,” Orin said. “I have no idea how long it will be before the guards enter my friends’ rooms. I have to return before that happens.”

“The guards won’t do anything unless ordered to… or unless they become suspicious for some reason. As long as your friends stay quiet, and Desmond and Sheree aren’t around to give that command, your friends will remain locked in their rooms.”

Orin wanted to believe her, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with Sahira’s life. “What time do these two assholes usually leave their rooms?”

“Not until late morning or early afternoon. It depends on what they did the night before.”

“And when do you leave here?”

“We always leave before he goes to bed, usually around three.”

“So, he has to wake before then.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have slit his throat.”

Orin shrugged; she was right, but it was a good way to keep Desmond from using his power against him. “I didn’t know about the blindfold thing then. I wouldn’t make the same choice now.”