Page 38 of Through the Wicked Wood

“Says my sister with love,” Sorin mumbles, strumming his fingers across the table. I smile at their childish joke.

“Now,” Sam says, sitting back down with her tea, “show us your actual hands so we can wrap this up.”

At the same time, the two men flip their cards, and despite Sorin not having his lucky queen, he still wins the hand with a full house.

“Pay the price,” Sam says in a sing-song tone before Jarek groans and slips off a ring from his thumb, leaving his breeches intact.

“Boo!” Sam says, drawing out the word. “How disappointing.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen already.” Jarek laughs, pulling Sam in for a quick kiss.

Swallowing thickly, I cast a glance at Sorin. He and I remain in the game, and frustratingly enough, the only clothing he’s lost thus far is his shirt. I glance down at myself, grateful the tunic I remain in is long enough to cover my backside. Sam deals us another hand and with each pull of my cards, my stomach sinks lower and lower. After a few minutes of contemplation, Sorin speaks first.

“I’m all in.” Sorin’s confidence is evident in his voice as he pushes his pile of shillings into the center of the table. His dimple deepens as he smiles at me. My brows pinch together before I refocus on my cards.

Five cards lie face up on the table. Jack of Hearts, Four of Clubs, King of Diamonds, Two of Hearts, and an Ace of Spades.

The only decent card in my hand is a Four of Hearts, giving me a one-pair. It’s not nothing, but it certainly isn’t great.

I can either fold and lose or match Sorin’s bet and hope he’s bluffing. I flick my eyes upward again to assess Sorin’s face. He has yet to bluff tonight, earning him the luxury of keeping most of his clothes. But as I watch him across the table, his fingers twitch, strumming a melody against the wood. Could he be…nervous? Maybe all that fidgeting is his tell and maybe he is bluffing this time.

“What’s it going to be, love.” My stomach somersaults at Sorin’s use of the nickname.

Taking a deep breath, I place my cards face down to conceal the cards I’ve been given. I have no clue if Sorin lies about his hand, but my need to prove him wrong gets the best of me. With absolute uncertainty, I lock my eyes with him again.

“I’m all in,” I say through gritted teeth. Sorin’s grin widens as I push the sum of my shillings into the center of the table, matching his bet.

“Moment of truth!” Sam shouts, throwing her hands up in a show of enthusiasm. “Sorin first.”

Flipping his cards, my stomach drops as he reveals his cards including a Jack of Spades and a King of Hearts. Combined with the Jack of Hearts and King of Diamonds already on the table, he’s lined up a two-pair.

Blowing my one-pair completely out of the water.

My gaze slides from the cards to Sorin’s face. He quirks his head to the side and raises his brows as if prodding me, pushing me to reveal the hand that I have.

Or lack of.

Tossing my cards onto the table with a shrug, I let out a long sigh. “You win.” To my surprise, Sorin offers no quick retort, no snide comment. Rather, a faint hint of pink blushes across his cheeks and over the tips of his ears.

“Off with that shirt, Elora,” Sam says through a laugh, her coiled curls bouncing lightly as she does. “Join the rest of us losers.” My stomach knots when I realize I have no jewelry on to shed as Jarek just had.

Sam’s voice is jovial, splendid, even. But for whatever reason, I can’t take my eyes away from Sorin. The determination to prove he hasn’t bested me, despite my poor hand, overpowers my usual need to blend into the shadows.

Slowly, I stand. My chair scrapes loudly against the wood floor as I push back. Feigning as much confidence as I can muster, I pull the hem of my tunic up, revealing my bare legs, then my abdomen. Sorin holds my gaze and even when my body starts to heat under his stare, I refuse to break eye contact first.

Sam and Jarek’s laughter and banter between them has faded to the background. It’s as if they have left completely and only Sorin and I remain. A muscle flexes in his jaw as I raise my tunic higher still, until finally, I pull it up and over my head completely. Leaving me in nothing but my undergarments.

The thin fabric of my camisole feels obsolete as my skin ignites under Sorin’s gaze. His eyes narrow to scan and scour over every inch of my now exposed skin. I stand there, like a fool frozen in time, letting him look. Maybe wanting him to look. The flesh on my skin rises while somehow still heating. The memory of his hands on my hips while we danced makes my stomach flip. Just as I’m about to begin fidgeting under his stare, Sam’s voice draws our attention.

“Here, here!” she shouts, jumping from her chair and grabbing her mug of tea. I shake off the heat of Sorin’s lingering gaze and smile at Sam. “Let me be the one to officially applaud your valiant attempt at triumph. Unfortunately, my brother here, withholds his reputation as card master.” Rolling her eyes at Sorin, she turns to me again with a smile. “No matter,” she laughs before clearing her throat and switching to a more serious tone. “Elora, welcome to the crew.”

Chapter 20

Sorin

With Galen tucked away in a corner with his books, and Sam and Jarek occupied in her room doing who knows what, I’m relieved to have some time alone with Elora. We agreed she’d stay with Eviey again tonight where she feels most comfortable, and Galen will take the spare room at Letty’s.

In the meantime, Elora and I sit in contented silence back in my room. She’s stretched out on the settee by the fireplace, cupping a mug of peppermint tea and reading a book she borrowed from Sam, while I pretend to thumb through a book I stole from Galen.

---