Page 55 of Wicked Curses
He couldn’t find any bandages, but he grabbed some towels and cold water to take to his room. Hopefully, it would help with her swelling.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
Sahira woketo what felt like an imp happily hammering away on her brain. She scrunched her eyes closed as she tried to bury the nausea churning in her belly.
Why does every part of me hurt so much?
“Easy,” a voice murmured.
A cool hand resting against her forehead eased her discomfort, and the cold compress that followed helped more. She settled down as she forgot about trying to figure out what happened.
She didn’t know how much time passed as she floated in and out of consciousness, but she stirred to voices before slipping under again. More time passed, and more voices drifted to her, along with laughter, music, and the clink of glasses and silverware.
When she rose from unconsciousness again, she blinked against the darkness suffocating the room. Her head felt better, but a dull throb still pulsed in her temples. She searched the shadows for answers but couldn’t find any.
I’m not in my room.
It was similar to hers but smelled more masculine. Instead of grass and wood, the scents of cinnamon and clove permeated the air. Her bed was a perfectly fine full-size, but now she lay in the middle of a king.
Instead of her pretty quilt, a deep red blanket covered her. Sheer red gauze draped over the tops of the four tall posts and spanned over the top of the bed.
Orin’s room, she realized with a sinking sensation.
She’d seen it before, and her skin started to crawl when she realized she was inhisbed, where she’d walked in on him withthreeother women when she first arrived. She hoped he’d washed the sheets.
Turning her head, she rested it against the pillow and sniffed. The soap and fresh air aroma wafting from it was a welcome relief.
She craned her head to take in the lantern on the nightstand. Its small flame danced across the walls as the night’s events crashed over her.
Her hand flew to her forehead. Her fingers tentatively felt over the lump there before falling to the swollen flesh of her throat. When she gulped, pain accompanied the movement.
She was in Orin’s bed, probably exactly where he wanted her after he attacked her last night. Or at least, she thought it was last night. She had no idea how long she’d been out.
Indignation rising, she propped herself up to settle against the headboard. It took a few seconds, but she finally swung her legs out of bed.
Nausea rolled her stomach and nearly drove her to her knees. The pounding in her head increased as tears of frustration and anger burned her eyes.
She’d known Orin was ruthless and would do whatever it took to win, but she’d never expected him to unleash this cruelty on her. She didn’t have high standards for any dark fae, but somehow, he managed to sink lower than she’d ever believed possible.
She was about to rise when the knob turned and the door crept inward. The noise from below increased. The door wasn’t completely open before Orin popped his head in and looked at her.
When he saw her sitting there, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “You’re awake.”
She didn’t say anything as she eyed him warily while her fingers dug into the mattress. His gaze roamed over her before settling on her face; when they did, he rolled his eyes.
“You still think it was me?”
“Who else would it be?”
He glided into the room with the grace of a stalking panther. His body flowed with such mesmerizing grace that she almost forgot she wanted to kill him.
He may not have the same control over the shadows as Cole, but they coalesced around him in a way they didn’t for others. The shadows were an ingrained part of him, and he was part of them.
Orin grabbed the small chair from the corner and carried it to her. It was one of the chairs from the pub. He turned it around and straddled it to prop his arms on the back while studying her.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, witch, but a fair amount of your kind don’t like you in this realm.”
“Witches can’t control the shadows like you, and that thing was made of shadows… or something like them.”
