Page 29 of A Darkness So Sweet

Then the witch spoke, and Ragnar translated: “He is powerful in healing magic. There is much inside of him that knows the bodies he touches. A broken bone is not too much to heal, nor is the fragmentation of the mind. He could easily become stronger with the connection of a powerful troll wife. If given a strong wife, then his power will magnify tenfold. He would be able to heal an entire battlefield and prevent death itself should he wish.”

Suddenly, what was happening all barreled toward her.

They weren’t looking into the soul of a person and weighing if she was good enough for him. This troll was revealing how much magic was inside of them. And though her husband had a lot of power, soon enough, he would know she had very little.

She was supposed to be the princess. She was supposed to have more magic than any of the trolls could guess at, because she was supposed to be half elf.

Her time had run out to tell him the truth. If only she had pushed herself harder. If only she’d been brave enough to let it all blurt out of her mouth without wondering if he would kill her for it. If only she wasn’t… Maia.

Because now he would know. He would believe her omission of her true identity was a direct attack against his people. Perhaps he would even believe she had been part of all this. He’d accuse her of working with the king, and maybe he’d drag her before his own. She didn’t want to see the troll king, nor did she want to know what their people did in retribution for those who lied.

Her breath caught in her throat, but then she heard a sound behind her. Turning to look, she saw a wall of multi-colored flesh standing in the doorway. They hadn’t been alone on their walk after all. Nearly all the trolls who were in their war band were waiting on the other side of that door. They were all here to see how much power she had.

She was supposed to bring them safety, she realized. With her tied to Ragnar, somehow, the magic was supposed to give them certainty that they could not lose a battle.

And she’d ruined that.

Maia didn’t even have time to get up and run. The blood witch reached for her hand and drew it onto the table. When she tried to pull away, Ragnar placed his hand on her forearm and held her down.

Eyes wide, knowing that her fear must be visible, she begged. “Please, let me go. I don’t want to do this.”

“It is our way.”

“I have to tell you something beforehand, Ragnar. You have to listen to me this time.” Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. She couldn’t breathe, but also knew she had no idea how to say the words. “I’m frightened, Ragnar.”

He sucked in a deep breath, but his hand didn’t move. “Fear is what limits us. You can let it control your life, or you can control it. The choice is up to you.”

She hated how poetic he was. A proverb about fear didn’t help her right now when all the trolls were going to realize that she wasn’t who the king had claimed her to be. She’d tried to tell him, but he hadn’t listened. Or perhaps she just hadn’t found the right words.

Panic made her breaths saw in and out of her lungs. The blood witch trailed those claws down her hand, following the lines of her palm. And as the other woman spoke, Maia stared up at Ragnar as his brows furrowed in confusion. “These are the hands of a woman who has worked hard, as well. A woman who has suffered much at the hands of those who should have cared for her. The death of her family lingers in these palms, not because she is responsible for their loss, but because their souls linger to taint every step she takes. The path she walks will never be easy until she lets those old ghosts go into the underworld where they belong.”

Confusing words for a princess, Maia was certain.

But then sharp spikes of pain stuck through her skin. She let out a little sound of pain as her injured wrist throbbed along with the new aching that joined the bone deep pain that had plagued her since she’d fallen into the stream. Her blood streamed down her wrist onto the table and she saw her entire life flash before her eyes.

The moment the chanting began again, she knew she was done for.

Her blood rose into the air between them, a smaller bead than Ragnar’s. And then a light. A glowing green light that was so dim it was almost hard to see. Just the barest of lights, but it was there.

And for a moment, with the smoke swirling around them and that green light sparkling in her eyes, all her fears filtered away. Instead, there was only the sense of awe.

Maia had spent her entire life knowing there was something inside of her that awakened when plants were around her. She loved them. They loved her. It was the only thing that was constant in her upbringing. The support and undying love of green things growing and it had rooted deep inside of her. Now she was looking at that power. There was so little elven blood in her family that she had thought it was entirely gone. She’d believed she was just making up her power in her head.

But no, it was there. A tiny green light, like the spark of a seed, and that was inside of her. Just waiting to bloom.

The blood witch chanted more, and she seemed to frantically begin moving. There was a sense of urgency as her hands blended the blood together. Moving ever faster, even as Ragnar seemed to freeze beside her.

Until it all came crashing down.

A snarl came first from the doorway. Then another voice muttering, “It cannot be.”

Then Ragnar’s hand tightened on her forearm. His claws scraped the table rather than her flesh, but the sound ripped her from her sense of peace. The blood witch let the spell drop and there was only silence in the room. The silence before a storm that would soon unleash upon her.

“You have no magic,” he spat.

She stared at their blood pooling on the table, mingling into the fair color of ferns. “I do have magic,” she whispered. “Just not as much asher.”

ChapterTwelve

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