Page 49 of A Darkness So Sweet

Gunnar clapped a hand to his shoulder in the market they wandered through, thoroughly delighted by the conversation. “So you actually like her now?”

“I don’t like her.”

“You seem to be thinking about her an awful lot. And one of the vendors told me you bought her proper earrings. Sounds like you’re leaving your mark on her, and that in itself says a lot about what you’re thinking.” The cheeky grin on his face was one that Ragnar wanted to wipe off with a jab of his fist.

“I do not like the human. She’s difficult at the best of times and far too concerned about what is proper or what is right.” Unless his tongue was between her legs. Then she seemed to unravel.

And now he was uncomfortable again, surrounded by trolls with the ability to smell his passion and he needed to leave the crowd before he was laughed out of it.

Gunnar wouldn’t let him, though. His brother wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him toward a tavern in the farthest corner of this street. “Oh, come on. You’ve always been such a grump. You know better than to let a woman get the better of you, troll or human. It doesn’t matter.”

“You have no idea the ties that already bind us.” Ragnar rubbed a hand over his chest where there was an ache he could not explain. It was like a part of him wanted to go back home. Like there was a thread of his magic that was tied to her, and the longer he was away, the more it stretched and ached.

His brother chuckled. “You’ve been staying away from her like a snake waits in your bed. From the moment we first picked her up, you’ve been hiding this feeling. So I don’t think going to a tavern and having a drink with your brother is going to change that.”

It likely wouldn’t, and Ragnar did need a drink. Maybe he could drink himself under the table and not feel like he was getting ripped in two by his mind and his soul.

They walked up to the doorway that was taller than two trolls high. It was surrounded by the antlers of deer that had been hunted on the mountain for centuries. Wisps gathered between the tines, pooling a warmer light around the space that already filled the streets with the sound of laughter. He knew beyond that door he would be greeted with the scent of warm baked bread, countless steins of ale, and friendship that would soothe the ache in his soul. Even if he would become the joke of the century, considering he was in a bar while his new troll wife waited at home.

“A few drinks,” he muttered. “I don’t want to give anyone the idea that I regret?—”

The ground shook beneath their feet. He looked at his brother, shock on both of their features as a rumble spread throughout the mountain of Trollveggen. The mountain had never shaken before. Not like this. And then they heard it. The sound of rock and rubble falling from above.

“Run!” Gunnar shouted, shoving him out of the way as a large stone fell where they had just been standing.

More rocks tumbled out of the sky, splitting them off from each other for a moment that had his heart racing. They ran for the tavern as one, ducking into the doorway and watching as the mountain shook with rage.

Pressing his hands against the stone, Ragnar tried to understand what would bring the mountain to this reaction. But when he reached out with his magic, the magic that connected all trolls to the home they lived in, he could feel it wasn’t rage. It was fear. Fear that moved throughout the entire stone of his home as the mountain did what she could to protect them from something terrible.

Another rumble shook beneath their feet. Screams echoed throughout the streets, along with shrieks of pain that filled the air. Lights fell from behind him, crashing onto tables that sent trolls to their feet as they shouted. More shaking, more stones, until the very ceiling above their heads creaked.

He looked up, brow furrowed, as he noticed a crack spread across the stone above them. Gunnar did the same, and all the trolls in the room held their breath as it seemed like their lives might be over.

But then there was sudden silence. Dust billowed around them, a quiet reprieve from the moments of madness. Then all the sound returned as the mountain settled back into comfort.

All he could hear was the sound of his people dying. Countless of them. Their pain was something he could feel deep in his chest as his magic woke and flooded through his veins. He had to go to them. He had to get out of this tavern and help where they needed him. It wasn’t a choice. His body becoming a vessel for the power inside of him when he was surrounded by the wounded and the dying, and his brother knew that.

Helplessly, Ragnar looked for Gunnar as they both staggered toward the door. He stepped over rubble that had fallen in front of him, knowing that he was going to see more of it as he walked out into the streets.

“Let me help you,” Gunnar said, rushing ahead of him to get out into the streets first. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this. Gunnar’s magic was in control. He was better on a battlefield where minds were weaker and able to be manipulated. But he’d seen Ragnar in this state many times after a battle, and he was the one to seek out those who needed help first.

Ragnar’s magic liked to find anyone who was hurt. It didn’t matter if that was a small cut on their finger or their guts hanging out of their belly. He wasn’t good at picking who to start with, only who would ease the sudden swelling of magic that pressed against his lips and tongue.

“This way,” Gunnar said, grabbing onto his forearm and yanking him away from a small group of trolls with bloodied hands from digging people out of the rubble.

Ragnar blindly followed his brother, his vision becoming obscured by the white magic that boiled inside of him now. It hurt. It ached. His fingernails felt like they were ripping from his body, but that was the pain of his magic. It was always a little painful.

A whispered voice in his mind kept repeating the same word over and over again. He could barely hear it over the rushing sound of magic in his ears.

But he thought the word might beMaia.

His wife. He needed to go to her, make sure she was all right. But the screams of the dying and injured were right in front of him and he knew logically that their house was safe. She was far from here. Much farther than the quake would have reached.

If she stayed where she was, then she was safe. She had no reason to leave their house.

He took one step away from the street that would lead him to her. Then another. Even as his soul screamed to just look. All he wanted was to just check on her and make sure that he was right, and she was okay.

But so many other people needed him too. And she was fine. He would know if she was hurt, so he kept going.

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