Page 33 of A Darkness So Sweet

“Is that because you’re...” She struggled to find the right word. “Noble doesn’t sound correct for your people. Or do you have nobility? Well, you must. You have a king, so that means there must be others. A duke is what we would call someone like you, perhaps. Or an earl?”

She was rambling at this point. But trying to make some sense of what had happened to her helped with the panic attack currently coiling around her heart.

All the while, the damned troll sat there looking at her. Slowly, he extended his arm, easing the meat over the open fire. “Trolls don’t look at it that way. Nobility, like what you’re saying, has to be earned through deeds, not through bloodlines. We don’t give our respect to others so easily.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “I like that.”

His mouth twisted into something similar to a smile before he looked back down at the fire. “So on your terms, I would be the son of a ‘noble’. My father was a grand general who won many battles for our people. All know of him, and all think of him as a... grandfather to them. He was a good man, with many impressive deeds.”

“Ah.” Maia nodded as though that made sense. “And you’re a healer? At least, that’s what the blood witch said.”

He nodded again, turning the rabbit over the open flame. “I am.”

“How long have you been a healer?”

“My entire life.”

Right, because that was his magic. Trolls were far more tied to the magic they were born with. Though, she supposed if she was born with more magic than what she currently had, she would have used it more.

And she was running out of things to say. He didn’t have a lot to say, even when she asked very specific questions. Maia was distracted by the pain in her back and the sensation of numbness running from her wrist into her fingers. It was hard to think about superficial things to talk about, especially when the creature in front of her didn’t want to talk.

Still. She had to try. He’d all but agreed to be her husband and that was progress. She wasn’t in a one sided marriage anymore and she didn’t want to be married to someone who hated her.

Clearing her throat, she tucked her aching wrist against her belly and tried again. “What’s your favorite food?”

Both his brows shot up. “What?”

“What is your favorite food?” she repeated, a little louder this time.

“I heard you, I just... What kind of question is that?”

“I just want to know you a little better than I do. I don’t know what you like to eat, or what you hum when your mind is bored. I don’t know what your favorite color is, your favorite flower, or how often you think about your future. I want to get to know you. If we’re married, that only seems fair.”

There was a long moment of silence. Eventually, she gave up on hoping that he would even respond. Maia listened to the crackling sound of the fire and scooted a little closer to it for the warmth as the sun dipped below the horizon. Crickets started up, their chirps likely the last before winter set in. She’d miss their song, but she also loved the first snow. When the world was blanketed in white, and all was still, she had a wonderful feeling of peace.

Eventually, he shifted, shaking himself off as he stood. The evening chill didn’t seem to affect him at all as he walked over to her with that rabbit in his hands.

“Here,” he said as he reached her side of the fire. “Eat this.”

“Oh,” she let out a little startled squeak as he handed the hot, dripping stick to her. “Thank you.”

She ripped off a small steaming piece, trying very hard not to get it all over her already ruined shirt, and then handed the stick back to him. But he shoved her hand back into her lap, ignoring the grease that spilled onto the ground and moved behind her.

“What—” Maia cleared her throat. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“It’s for you.”

“I can’t eat a whole rabbit.”

“You’ll try.” He settled onto the ground behind her, and she was terrified to look back. She had no idea what he was doing, and didn’t want to look. The firelight set his features into a terrifying grimace.

But then his hands came down on her back, light and soft, as he parted the long gashes in her shirt to look at her wounds. His claws weren’t so terrifying as he peered at her wounds. Then, with a low hum, she felt the first wash of his power. Cool and calming, it was a balm to the heated wounds that were burning long before his touch.

Sighing, she tried to lean back into his hands. He nudged her forward again.

“Eat,” he said, and she did.

Maia put the strip she’d ripped off in her mouth and let the flavor explode on her tongue. Rabbit really was good. She’d had it a few times, perfectly bathed in wine beforehand and braised to perfection. But this was somehow better. This was wild rabbit that he’d caught with his bare hands, charcoaled over an open flame while crisp clear air surrounded them.

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