Page 2 of Sinful Curses
“What is it?” Elsa inquired.
When he shook his head, sand flew from his black hair. As his hair settled back into place, the tips of his pointed ears poked through it. He brushed a few strands away from his forehead.
With his narrow face, high cheekbones, slightly pointed chin, and hawkish nose, he was gorgeous even as he radiated an aura of menace. Unfortunately, his handsomeness also hid a cruel, soulless heart.
The only things Orin cared about were Orin and his family. Technically, once Lexi and Cole wed, Sahira would be related to him by marriage, but she wasnoton the list of things he cared about.
And she was fine with that.
Sure, she could admit his rejection of her after they had sex—which, despite everything, was still one of the best nights of her life—had cut deep, but she’d moved on since then.
Or at least that’s what she told herself, all while his smell of cinnamon and clove caused yearning to clench at her heart. She would have to get used to being disappointed because, while she’d made the mistake of falling into his bed before, she wouldn’t repeat it.
“What is it?” Elsa asked again.
Orin turned away from the horizon and focused on Elsa. Wearing his cloak, a long-sleeved shirt, and pants, she couldn’t see the ciphers running across his upper chest and arms before ending at his wrists, but they were there.
During her night with him, she’d traced each of those marks until she memorized their ebb and flow. Each of those ciphers was like fire and water as they flowed like a river but possessed the sharp points of flames.
Ciphers indicated how much power a dark fae possessed, and while his older brother Cole had more than him, she hadn’t seen any other dark fae with as many markings as Orin.
And those were only the ones heallowedher to see. Though she’d never seen them, and he kept them hidden, she was sure far more marks covered him.
“Nothing,” Orin finally said. “We should keep moving.”
Sahira would prefer not to encounter another one of those things, but at least, even if it was a weird, frightening creature, it wasn’t deadly.
That wouldn’t last long in these bleak, Barren Lands.
CHAPTERTHREE
Orin focusedhis attention ahead while he searched his surroundings for any hint of a threat. He didn’t believe the thing that erupted from the sand earlier was as harmless as it seemed.
Nothing was harmless in these Barren Lands, not even the sand sticking between his ass cheeks and rubbing his skin raw with every step he took. He loathed the Cursed Realm and everything it had to offer.
He would do anything to escape this place but wasn’t sure if traveling these Barren Lands was the answer or how they would get killed.At least then, we’d finally escape the Cursed Realm.
It was far from the ideal way to escape andnotthe route he planned to take. They had to kill anything they encountered in this land of endless sand and few possibilities.
Something wasn’t right; whatever that thing was, it couldn’t destroy them, so why reveal itself? Had they somehow scared it out of its hiding place, or was it meant to be a distraction for something else?
Was it a lookout for something bigger and worse?
In this hellhole, that was a good possibility. They’d encountered a few strange creatures since leaving Belda’s town, but most kept their distance and remained distant, shadowy figures on the horizon.
They were deeper into the Barren Lands now; it would be much harder to turn back and flee whatever awaited them. Sand kicked up around them, swirling in the sun as the breeze spun it in circles.
It shifted across the desert, creating movement like the sea rippling with waves. He spotted motion in his peripheral vision, but when he looked, it vanished.
He couldn’t tell if it had really been there and gone or if the sand was creating mirages. If something was out there, fucking with them, it should stop being a coward and make its presence known.
He preferred to face things head-on; this sneaky, spineless shit didn’t sit well with him. It was like Radagast when he was tormenting Sahira, and he’d ensured the warlock paid for his cowardice.
Orin glanced over his shoulder to where Sahira stood with her spear clasped in both hands and held before her; she was ready to gut anything trying to attack her. Her baggy clothes and cloak mostly obscured her hourglass figure, but she could have a hundred layers on, and he’d still know every curve, dip, and hollow of her lush body.
Beneath the cover of her hood, she’d pulled her mahogany hair into its customary bun. Her hood and sand mostly covered it, but he glimpsed some of its striking color.
The chin of her heart-shaped face was set in determination, and her cupid’s bow mouth was compressed into a firm line. Across the distance separating them, and over the earthy aroma of the desert, he detected her honeyed scent.
