Page 13 of A Darkness So Sweet

This troll was a monstrous being, one who had fought her kind for centuries and who would continue to fight them, no matter how much she wished it wasn’t true. And now she was married to one. Bound to him before the gods, and there was nothing she could do to change that now.

Exhaling, she wiped her nose one more time and curled her fingers in her lap. He gave her a look of disgust, but then when wasn’t he looking at her like that?

“I think there’s been some grave misunderstanding,” she said, her voice hoarse from vomiting.

“Indeed.”

Had he figured it out without her having to tell him? Perhaps it had become clear to him that Maia was obviously not the princess. She swallowed hard, “Then perhaps you would bring me back to?—”

“I was promised a princess who was lithe in figure and light in form. One whose bloodline ran deep with elven magic, and who would gift our sons with true power. You are not what I was promised, princess. And in that, I have no trust that your king knows how to tell the truth at all.”

No, no. He had it all wrong. He still thought she was royal, and she wasn’t at all. The words stuck in her throat, too jumbled with all her arguments, that they kept coming out wrong. “Well, that’s because?—”

He stood and all her words dissolved. This troll really was massive. Seated as she was on the ground, staring up at his body, she was forced to face the reality that they were even more different from what she’d thought. Her eyes danced over the swirling tattoos that meandered down his thighs, his bulging calves, all the way down to his bare feet.

She hadn’t noticed he wasn’t wearing shoes. But the tips of those toes were still marred with claws. Black tipped and terrifying, his feet flexed in the soft moss before he made a noise like a growl.

Maia blinked up at him, ripping her gaze from the sight of those strange feet.

“I have no faith in humans. Nor do I have any respect for your kind. I should have known, elven blood or not, that you would be little more than a dirty creature who only knows how to wallow in the muck. Now, get up.”

Tears stung Maia’s eyes. She was more than that. She was a talented woman who knew how to make plants grow and how to give people happiness at the sight of bright flowers. But in this moment, clothed in only a ruined wedding dress and the tattered remnants of her pride, she stood.

He watched her with a cruel gaze before clasping his clawed hand around the back of her neck. That massive, warm palm felt like a shackle that closed around her neck.

“You have wasted my time,” he snarled. “Now we must make camp here for the night. It is not a good place for us to sleep, but your foolishness has cost us too much time.”

He was the one who had thrown her over his shoulder. He was the one who had pushed her to the end of reason.

But she remained silent and seething as he marched her through the woods like a misbehaving child. Figures appeared in the shadows, moving out from behind trees where the trolls had been listening. They stood there watching her. Their gazes burned as he moved her through the crowd until they came upon a little stream.

Was he going to drown her? She wouldn’t put it past the monster who gripped the back of her neck.

He gave her one hard shake that made her teeth rattle. “Do humans not bathe?”

“We do,” she ground out through gritted teeth.

“When was the last time you bathed?”

“Last week.”

Filtered laughter rose from the trolls who had followed them. Her gaze slanted to the side, seeing the wall of multi-colored flesh and muscles. No one here would give her even an ounce of pity. No one would step in on her behalf.

The troll who had his hand around her neck released her as though she had said she was ill with the plague. “Trolls bathe daily. Sometimes more if the work is hard.”

“That’s how you get sick.” The words slipped out, a little too bitter and biting to be safe. She knew better than to talk like that. Maia knew what happened when she talked back to men. Curving in on herself, she waited for the slap or the shove that would send her onto her knees.

Instead, there was a long pause, and then deep guttural laughter.

They werealllaughing at her. Every single one of them.

She curved her body tighter, rounding her shoulders and trying to make herself smaller. Then came the hand that she knew would hurt. He planted his palm between her shoulder blades and shoved her into the stream.

Her feet slipped on the algae-covered rocks and she fell onto her hands and knees again. Not quite as painful as the last time, but still making her wrist scream in pain.

But she ground her teeth and didn’t let them know it hurt. She’d never let anyone know it hurt.

Her husband’s laughter died to a snarl. “Clean yourself, troll wife. And take off those rags. I’ll return with clothing more suited for you.”

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