Wicked Curses

WICKED CURSES THE SHADOW REALMS BOOK 7 BRENDA K DAVIES CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Chapter 72 Chapter 73 Chapter 74 Chapter 75 Chapter 76 Chapter 77 Chapter 78 Chapter 79 Chapter 80 Chapter 81 Chapter 82 Sneak Peek Find the Author Also from the Author About the Author Copyright © 2023 Brenda K. Davies All rights reserved. Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work, in whole or part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, is illegal and forbidden, without the written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Characters, settings, names, and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, places or settings, and/or occurrences. Any incidences of resemblance are purely coincidental. CHAPTER ONE Sahira glided through the crowd filling the elaborately appointed pub. Conversations swirled around her, but she was still too shell-shocked by her current situation to register anything they said. Instead, she tried to take in all the details of the large, open space with three crystal chandeliers illuminating the room. The subdued glow of the chandeliers indicated there was some power source here, but it must not have been much, as bronze lanterns with flickering candles hung along the wooden walls. The place smelled of alcohol, sex, and cooking meat. Beneath it were the fainter aromas of wood and the earthy scent of the outdoors. With its mirror-lined back, the stately bar took up the entire wall across from her. Bottles of different-colored liquids lined the glass shelves, but no labels marked what each contained. Multiple gaming tables and high-top and low-top tables filled the room. She’d never seen such an eclectic mix of immortals in one place or getting along so well as they gathered around the tables, drinking and gaming. More of them filled the stools lining the bar as they chatted and downed their drinks. Why aren’t they as freaked out about this place as I am? How long have they been here? Sahira gulped as she studied them. They must have been here for a while if they were all this calm. Most immortals, especially lycans, would have lost their minds over being trapped anywhere, but the lycans in this crowd were contentedly playing cards or eating dinner. Sahira wasn’t sure she would have believed it possible, but being trapped in this realm had bound them together instead of pitting them against one another. Though, she imagined there were times when they turned on one another like rabid dogs. She’d only been here for ten minutes and was already feeling claustrophobic. Rubbing her neck, she resisted pulling at her collar. I’m trapped. The words ran through her brain on a continuous loop. It couldn’t be true. It had to be some sick joke. She waited for the punchline but felt like she’d been punched in the gut when it didn’t come. There had to be a way out of this place. Orin wasn’t the most trustworthy guy in the world. She wouldn’t trust him to cross the street without throwing someone in front of a car. And he’d gladly push her into the way or run her over if it suited his needs. But if he’s lying, why can’t you open a portal out of here? Recalling her inability to do so made her throat tighten; this time, she couldn’t resist tugging at the collar of her blue peasant shirt with its bell sleeves. The loose-fitting, flowing shirt suddenly felt as confining as a straitjacket. Her fingers itched to tear it off so she could breathe easier. Sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled down her back to cleave the thin material of the shirt to her. I’m stuck here. I’m stuck! Oh, shit. “Easy,” a deep voice rumbled. Sahira hadn’t realized she was on the verge of hyperventilating until the words came from beside her. A large hand rested on her shoulder; its claw-tipped fingers brushed her flesh. Her head craned back as she looked at the towering figure. She almost fell over when she had to keep looking up as, standing at least seven feet, the demon was over a foot and a half taller than her. “You’re new here,” the demon said. “It gets easier, but this place is a shock to all of us at first.” “It can’t be real,” she muttered. “It is.” He pushed a small glass full of amber liquid toward her. “Drink.” Sahira blinked at the fluid swaying back and forth in the glass. It blurred, came back into focus, then blurred once more. Get it together, Sahira. With a trembling hand, she grasped the glass. The cool reality of it helped to steady her a little more as the stringent scent of the contents drifted to her. The whole place smelled of liquor, food, and immortals, but her senses became hyper-focused on the glass as she used it to ground herself in reality. It was smooth beneath her hand with sharper edges at the corners. Sahira ran her finger up and down one of the edges in a gesture that