Page 70 of Gilded Curses

They didn’t spend as much time holding each other as he would have liked. Instead, they parted and dressed in black pants and fae tunics they uncovered from their closets before returning to his room.

Sahira’s face scrunched in concentration as she cleaned his wound again. It was a clean cut; he’d made sure of that when he brought the hatchet down.

When they were free of this place, he could get a prosthetic. He’d seen some impressive ones out there, especially if they were made with fae metal and spelled by witches or warlocks. It would almost be like having his missing hand back again.

As she worked, Orin instinctively flexed the fingers of his missing hand. They were no longer there, but he felt them working to clench and unclench in his mind.

At least feeding from her had gotten his strength back to where it was before all the blood loss. He hadn’t been anywhere near as weak as he’d pretended to be when the dagadon were around, but he hadn’t faked all of it either, which was something Sahira would never learn.

“You should have fed,” he said.

She glanced up at him from under the thick fringe of her lashes. “You lost enough blood without me taking more from you.”

“I fed from you.”

“I know.”

“You need to stay strong too.”

She focused her attention back on his injury. “I am strong.”

“I felt your fangs when we kissed; you’re hungry.”

“I fed plenty from you yesterday, and while I craved your blood earlier, it wasn’t because I’m hungry; it’s because I love that connection with you.”

He caressed her cheek again before bending to kiss her forehead. “We’re going to get out of here.”

“I know.”

“I have to go alone tonight.”

“No, you don’t.” She dabbed some ointment onto his wound. It instantly helped ease the throbbing and soothed the burn. “But you’re not going to stop being ridiculously stubborn about that either.”

Orin tilted his head to the side as he studied her. She had no idea how close he was to caving to her demands.

She would pay for it if something happened out there and he didn’t return in time for the dagadon not to learn he was gone. At least, if she was with him, he’d know she was safe.

But she’d also slow him down. He’d be too worried about her and making sure she was in the shadows, not to make any sound or to move as freely as necessary.

Still, he didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind.

Maybe I can take her….

When his gaze traveled to the balcony doors, he decided against it again. She wasn’t safe anywhere in this place, but she was safer here than she would be out there.

He could do something to ensure she was safer. “I can cloak you in shadows and take you out to the garden where you can hide or run if necessary.”

“What about the others?”

He wouldn’t leave the others behind; they’d earned that much loyalty from him, but he’d be happier if she ran. “I’ll make sure they get out, but you could run to the forest and hide there. These things can’t hunt; they’ll never find you. I will.”

She recapped her ointment and rested her hands on his knees. “And we both know I can’t do that. I’m not leaving you or them. You wouldn’t do it, and neither will I.”

“You should.”

“And you should take me with you.”

Their gazes clashed before she lifted a set of clean bandages she’d made by tearing up a shirt from his closet. She gently bandaged his wound and tied the rags into place.