Page 20 of Gilded Curses
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“What is going on?” Elsa inquired.
“The losers must settle the bet we made,” Desmond said. “We always place a wager on who will survive, who will retreat, and who will die when someone finally leaves Ground Zero.”
“Ground Zero?” Zeth parroted.
“I believe you call it Belda’s town. And she has taken quite a shine to ruling it; she’s very democratic for a lycan.”
“How the fuck do you know that?” Orin demanded.
Beside him, Sahira stiffened as Desmond’s smile faltered. Irritation flickered through his pale blue eyes.
“We don’t talk like that at the dinner table,” Desmond said.
Orin was about to tell him that he didn’t give a shit about how they talked at the table but bit the words back. These things surrounded them, somehow knew far too much about them for his liking, and Sahira sat at his side.
He had a meat knife for a weapon, but that was all. The shadows dancing around him beckoned him to slip into them, but even if he could somehow get past the guards, he couldn’t leave Sahira or Pip. The little rodent had grown on him.
If he were completely honest with himself, he wouldn’t leave any of them behind. They’d gotten this far together and would leave together.
He inwardly cursed himself for being a moron and allowing himself to be weakened by all of them. He was very aware that a couple of months ago, he would have left their asses, but times had changed.
Unfortunately, he didn’t think those changes were for the better, as they might get him killed.
Orin sipped his wine as Sheree walked down the line of immortals, carefully inspecting each of them. When she pointed to three, some people standing near the wall hurried forward to lead them away.
Sheree returned to the table and straightened her dress before sitting. “They’ll be fine additions to my servants. Thank you, Renaldo.”
When Renaldo’s scowl deepened, Orin understood why half the table looked so sullen… they were losing their servants. Or, more likely, their slaves.
All these new arrivals were chosen by their owners and brought here to be claimed by all the smiling immortals. His fingers clenched on the base of his goblet as anger rose inside him. He didn’t like any of these assholes, but no one deserved to be treated like this.
He glanced at Sahira as another woman rose to inspect those gathered near the wall. She also picked out three, who were led away by some of the other servants.
Sahira was rigid beside him, her jaw set and eyes unblinking as more immortals rose to claim their prizes. Orin lowered his hand but didn’t release his knife as he secretly vowed to gut these twisted freaks.
The sullen immortals at the table only became more miserable while they led away more of their servants. He’d mistakenly considered they might have allies in them, that for whatever reason, they didn’t approve of Desmond’s antics with them, but this was the real reason behind their surly demeanors.
There would be no help for them from anyone at this table.
“How do you know about Belda’s town?” Orin asked as they took more immortals away.
He loathed Desmond’s smile as he fixed it firmly back in place. “Because we created what you call the Cursed Realm.”
Orin’s fingers twitched on the knife handle, and Zeth’s claws clicked before he stilled them. Sahira’s hand found his knee and grasped it, but while her touch normally soothed him, it did no such thing now.
Desmond had confirmed these freaks were the reason for everything they’d endured these past months. Visions of carving out his eyes filled Orin’s mind, and he found himself smiling back at the soon-to-be-dead man.
“And what do you call it?” Pip inquired, her tiny voice barely carrying above the crowd.
“Ground Zero is Belda’s town, but you were all players in The Tournament.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Desmond revealed this as if the word tournament would tell them all they needed to know about why they were here.
And while it did give Sahira some insight into all of it, she was still so confused that she didn’t know how to react to this revelation. Or maybe she didn’t want to understand.
