Page 19 of Gilded Curses

Desmond grew more boisterous to the point where Orin’s teeth grated together in irritation. Many of the Lord’s friends became drunker and more celebratory, while others sat sullenly as they picked at their food and rolled their eyes over the antics of their companions.

A drunk Desmond was annoying, but maybe he’d be their way out of here. If this buffoon was a complete mess, it might allow them to break free.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Across the table, Orin’s eyes locked on Renaldo’s. While his leader was increasingly animated, Renaldo remained stoic and sipped his wine.

Desmond might screw up enough for them to escape this place, but Renaldo wouldn’t. And when Orin shifted his attention from Renaldo to Sheree, he found her studying him from clear brown eyes unaffected by drink.

Neither of those assholes would allow Desmond’s debauchery to become a liability. They’ll fuck up somehow; he was sure of it.

Beside him, Sahira remained watchful while barely touching the food on her plate. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, “You should eat. This might be the only time they feed us.”

When her head turned toward him, a thrill shot through him, and his cock stirred when their lips nearly touched. Her honey scent teased his nostrils as her beauty struck something deep inside him.

“What if they put something in it?” she whispered.

The possibility had occurred to him too, but starving themselves over a chance of something happening wouldn’t help them. Besides… “Does it matter? They already have us.”

Sahira gulped before spearing a vegetable and chewing it. Satisfied she was getting at least a little nutrition, Orin sat back to watch the night progress.

After a couple more hours, when the servants cleared the meal away to replace it with dessert, Desmond leaned forward to speak with them. “I bet you’re ready to learn why you’re here.”

Orin remained outwardly nonplussed while inwardly, he screamed for answers. He waited a few seconds before turning his head to look at the grinning, red-faced man.

“I think it’s time,” his wife said in the sweet voice Orin loathed.

“In the Cursed Realm, or here in Epoch?” Elsa inquired.

“Both!” Desmond threw up his hands, and a cheer ran through the happier people at the table while the sullen ones continued looking miserable.

Does their unhappiness mean we might have some allies here?

Orin kept his focus on Desmond because that’s clearly what the man wanted, but from the corner of his eye, he watched Renaldo. Disapproval etched the man’s face as he stabbed a piece of pie, shoved it in his mouth, and chomped on it while watching Desmond from narrowed eyes.

When they were first seated, Orin was certain they’d never get help from anyone in this room, but maybe he was wrong. There was a divide here, and he was very good at finding weaknesses and digging in until he tore them apart.

“First!” Desmond declared with a clap of his hands. “Let’s bring forth the prizes.”

The prizes?

Orin’s brow furrowed, and the sound of the floor-to-ceiling doors opening at the other end of the room caught his attention. His head turned toward Sahira and the rest of the gold-tinted freaks at the table as the white wooden doors swung open.

At least fifty gold-flecked immortals, all dressed in white, were led into the room. They walked with their heads bowed and their hands clasped before them. The men had their hair shorn close to their skulls, while the women wore their hair in braids wrapped around the top of their heads.

“What is this?” Sahira whispered.

The woman beside her replied, “The prizes.”

“For what?”

“The winners.”

What does that mean? Orin pondered as the immortals stopped walking and turned to face the table. They’d aligned themselves perfectly from the head of the table to the end of it.

“Very healthy,” Desmond declared. “You’ve all made wonderful choices. None of us should be disappointed by our winnings.” He gestured to the line. “Go on, Sheree, my love. Pick the ones you would like.”

A sinking feeling settled in Orin’s stomach as the woman rose and walked toward the line of immortals.