Page 111 of A Darkness So Sweet

Bjorn couldn’t be reasoned with when he was like this. This was a troll who had been broken in so many ways. No one could get through to him, no matter how many times Ragnar had tried.

“Getting you out,” Bjorn snarled.

“Getting us out?”

“I need you all to head to the back right corner of the labyrinth. The wall is a different color. Wait there for me. I’ll return when it’s time.” Bjorn started to leave, only pausing when Gunnar made a sound of disbelief.

His brother had never known when to keep his mouth shut. “Why should we trust you? After all the troll blood you’ve spilt, I’d rather take my chances here than with you.”

Bjorn merely looked over his shoulder at him, the glare turning his eyes to chips of obsidian. “I’m not doing it for you. Maia needs to get out of here. They aren’t going to give her to me again. We haven’t been giving the Watchers enough of a show.”

“The Watchers?” Ragnar repeated, his body lurching forward at the sound of her name.

“There are humans who pay to see what we do to the women gifted to us. They are the worst of the lot.” Bjorn gestured to the crowd above them, many of the humans already pointing at the gathering of trolls and shouting with excited tones. “These are the ones who are here for blood. Some of them are here to see the prowess of trolls in other ways.”

No wonder Ragnar and Gunnar had been getting worse and worse places in the labyrinth. Just two days ago, Ragnar had been the first one in the arena and they’d made him wait nearly double the time for another troll to get in to help him. He’d nearly been pinned by a group of seven humans with weapons that could pierce through his skin before help had arrived.

He’d nearly died. And all because he wasn’t touching the human women that the king had gifted him.

But that meant…Blinding rage seared through him. Bjorn had been given Maia. Multiple times.

“Did you–” He couldn’t even say the words. Couldn’t get them out.

His old friend eyed him with pity. “No, Ragnar. She is a troll wife. I have lost many of the old ways, but not that one.”

Blowing out a long breath, he squared his shoulders and told himself they were all struggling here. The humans had put them through the worst that they could, and at least Bjorn hadn’t touched her. “Fine. Where in the labyrinth?”

Bjorn nodded to his feet, and Ragnar could see that he’d already drawn a map on the floor. It was drawn close enough to the stone that it was mostly obscured by the walls, so the humans in the stands couldn’t see it.

Ragnar nodded, and then turned his attention to the other trolls as Bjorn headed back into the labyrinth. “We don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t trust him,” Gunnar replied as he helped one of the other trolls stand. The woman was pale and had her hand pressed against her side where a stab wound sluggishly bled.

“Can you make it?” Ragnar asked her.

“I can.”

He studied the map as much as he could, then nodded. He knew where this was. It had been a recently reinforced area of the labyrinth. The new mortar and stones still smelled, although he hadn’t understood why. They’d all guessed that the king had the labyrinth changed regularly, just to make it harder for the warriors who were battling for their lives to memorize the layout.

Maybe they’d been wrong.

Together, they all slipped out into the looping halls. He hoped they would be able to get away without any of the humans finding them, but he’d been very wrong. The first turn led them head to head with a group of nearly ten humans, all armed to the teeth.

They all paused, staring at each other for a few moments before Gunnar stepped up beside him. Lifting a sharp claw, he pointed at one of the men who held a curved sword. “I’m going to take that. Such a blade is too good for the likes of you.”

The man was bigger than many of the warriors they had met so far in this place. His shoulders were broad, packed with muscle, and his entire body slick with sweat. A splattering of blood covered his ribs, which Ragnar didn’t know if that was from a troll or from another human who he had taken the sword from.

Still, the human’s face curved into a smile and he gestured with the sword. “You can try, beast.”

It was a good enough reason for them all to lunge into an attack.

Gunnar flew at him first, his body a blur of motion as he barreled toward the humans. Ragnar followed him closely, making sure to take the other side so there was nowhere the humans could escape. He picked up the first one that came at him, throwing the man over his head toward the hungry pack of trolls who waited for him. They tore him apart, limb by limb, until he was little more than a mist of blood in the air.

And so they fought. Continually. Over and over until his breathing was ragged and his mind was fuzzy with rage. He wanted them all dead. Every single one of them.

Until they were. Until Ragnar stood on a pile of meat and bones.

The pain registered first. A large gash across his ribs, one nearly through his thigh. One of the humans had gotten him across the face with a wicked blade that shouldn’t have been able to slice through his leathery hide. Breathing hard, he stared at the others, who were looking worse for wear as well.

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