Page 11 of Gilded Curses

Nothing adorned the pristine white walls, and despite the sheer number of immortals crammed into the space, not so much as a smudge marred them. The place was beautiful and sterile, and she hated it.

When she finished taking in this section of the castle, Sahira shifted her attention to Desmond. “Is Epoch the castle’s name or the realm’s?”

Desmond turned his patently false smile on her. Beside her, Orin stiffened as a rumble made its way up his chest. When Sahira rested her hand on his arm, his vibrating muscles revealed how close he was to snapping.

He relaxed a little beneath her touch. She realized she’d made a mistake when Desmond’s white-blue eyes fell to her hand and his smile widened.

She shouldn’t have touched him; it had given away too much to this freak. But these things might have already known there was… something between them and had planned to use it against them.

They’d known Orin’s name, after all. Between his coloring, ears, and ciphers, the fact he was a dark fae was obvious, so they would have known that, but how had they known his name?

These immortals had been watching them somehow or listening. By doing so, they would have learned there was something between her and Orin.

It was complicated, slightly twisted, and possibly broken, but powerful too.

“You are in the realm of Epoch,” Desmond said. “We call our castle Epoch too. Maybe it’s not the most original name, but it’s who we are.”

His self-deprecation was blatant and more than a little annoying, but Sahira chose to ignore it. “Epoch has to do with time.”

The gold specks in Desmond’s eyes twinkled. “So it does, my friend. So it does.”

Sahira refrained from telling him they’d never be friends. She was sure he already knew.

“And what are we doing here?” Zeth growled.

Throughout all the time she’d known him, Zeth had always been different than the demons she encountered in the past. Those demons had the volatile tempers their species were renowned for, but Zeth had always kept his restraint.

It was because he had a wife and son to get home to and was determined to do so. But being here, surrounded and outnumbered by the things that most likely trapped them in the Cursed Realm, was getting to him.

She could only hope he didn’t do something foolish enough to get them all killed after they’d made it this far. However, the Golden Ones were probably already plotting their demise.

Without the ability to open a portal, she didn’t know what good making it this far had done them. They’d traversed nightmare after nightmare only to end up encased in this gilded city.

Her hand tightened on Orin’s arm, not because she was seeking to give comfort, but because she needed it.

“You’re here to celebrate!” Desmond declared. “You’re here to enjoy the labors of all your hard work.”

“And then what?” Elsa asked.

Desmond made a downward motion with his hands. “Slow down, witch. First, we must get you ready for the celebration tonight. There will be time for questions later.”

Sahira glanced at her friends as Fath shifted on her shoulder. She had no idea what getting them ready or the celebration would entail, but it wouldn’t surprise her if they trussed her up like a pig and shoved an apple in her mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The castle walls consisted of white brick, most likely harvested from somewhere in this realm. In the dim light of the lanterns hanging on the wall, the golden flecks within those bricks twinkled and danced as Desmond led them down a hallway on the first floor.

The clicking of Zeth’s claws ceased as he took in their surroundings. Now, silence hung heavily in the air.

The only thing that interrupted it was the occasional scuff of a boot or a low murmur from those dressed in the vibrantly colored clothing. None of those in white spoke, and the guards rarely did.

At least a dozen or so of the more elaborately dressed immortals looked more irritated by their presence than elated, like Desmond and some of the others. She was beginning to realize those dressed all in white were the servants, the guards were in blue, and the ones who wore the vivid, elaborate clothes were the ones who ruled here.

Beside her, Orin walked so rigidly that she was certain he’d break if someone tried pushing on him. She resisted her impulse to touch him again; even if they already knew there was something between them, they might not know the details.

They can’t know the details. You don’t know the details.

It was true, but she still couldn’t give them any more possible ammo against them, and she hoped he didn’t do anything stupid. When she first arrived in the Cursed Realm, she wouldn’t have doubted he could keep his emotions under control, but not anymore.