Page 63 of A Darkness So Sweet

A stunned silence followed her words. Thus far, most trolls had been accepting of his troll wife. There had been some pitying looks, of course, but none of them had been so blatant as to tell him that she wasn’t good enough. But Bodil had always been a mouthy one. She’d always shared her thoughts a little too readily.

Now, as he looked at the other trolls surrounding the table, he realized many of them shared the same thoughts. They looked away from his pointed stare, ignoring the words that had been said. Perhaps some of them struggled with trying to think of something to change the subject, but it was out on the table now.

“Is that how you all feel?” he asked, suddenly outraged that his own people would be so callous.

No one at the table would look at him. Not the king, not Gorm, and certainly not his own brother, which somehow enraged him even more than the rest.

“Gunnar?” he asked, making sure that he pointed out his own kin. “You feel the same way?”

“It’s not forever, Ragnar.”

“It is forever, and you know that. The humans will not stop fighting us. Their king tricked us, used us to send a message that he would never let his daughter or her magic be tainted by animals. You all know this as well as I!” He caught every one of their gazes. “She is my troll wife. You all know that I am bound to do what I can to take care of her, to ensure she lives her life to the fullest. You’re asking me to lock her away in a tomb.”

Bodil snorted. “Our home is not a tomb. You can walk with her through the streets with a leash, if that is what you desire to do.” She turned to the king. “We should lock our people in, as well. The humans are growing bold and it would only be dangerous to allow trolls free access to the outside. At least until the passes are secured and closed off.”

Were they now going to continue like his problem was a nonissue? Ragnar interrupted the conversation. “I have no interest in binding my woman to me. Besides, you know as well as I, she has to go out into the sun.”

The others had the nerve to look like his interruption was bothersome. Gorm was the first to reply, his deep rumbling voice stating, “Why is that a problem for us? If she dies, she dies.”

“Excuse me?” he snarled.

The king sighed. “Ragnar, we all hoped for a better match for you. We’ve seen you struggle with the human woman as well. If she died, it would not be the end of your line. There would be another to come, and I would not allow you to remain without a wife for long.”

He saw red. All of these people saw her as disposable. Or even worse, they saw her as a creature so far beneath them that her death wasn’t a bother. They’d just pair him off with another, without ever asking if that was what he wanted.

At least his brother appeared disturbed as well. Gunnar shifted uncomfortably. “My king, I will happily bring her to the sun if Ragnar cannot be spared to do so. She does not need to die for this plan to work.”

“That creature was a mistake,” the king said, his voice low and grumbling. “She should never have been brought here. I have no interest in fostering or feeding mistakes. Get rid of her in whatever way you have to, but I thought a slow death would be more kind than asking one of ours to kill her.”

Ragnar stood. His chair screeched on the floor, a battle cry of its own as every single troll surrounding the table stared at him in shock. “If you try to lay a single claw on her head, I will take her and leave. You can heal your own trolls. She is my troll wife, and the mere threat of harming her is its own act of war. You know that as well as I do, high king.”

The king did not flinch. He just chuckled, knowing that Ragnar would never make good on that threat. “You will do no such thing. If I have to tie you down and force you to use your magic, I will. But we both know that your power binds you to us just as your honor binds to you her.”

“So this is the kindness of trolls?” Ragnar hissed. “We have not changed so much from our ancestors, then.”

The others stared at him, but Gorm was the one to laugh. “Animals? You think you are so far from the tiger, boy? Look at you, all flared up and ready to fight on her behalf.”

Ragnar gave him a cold glare. “I speak of the elves, General. Heartless monsters who would stop at nothing to gain more power for themselves. Clearly, those bloodlines are still strong within us. We have fallen far to be so willing to follow in their footsteps.”

Snarling, he left the war room. There was no place for him if they were going to talk about his future and his troll wife as though he had no say in it. He couldn’t stand to hear them talk about her like she was beneath them, either.

Maia had proven to him that she was kind hearted. She hadn’t complained once, not even when she had spoken of her home and how much she missed it. When she had begged him to bring her back, and when he’d denied her the right to do so, she had taken that with grace and moved forward.

She was as much a warrior as any of them, and she deserved to be treated as such.

“Ragnar!” His brother’s voice rang out in the hall. “Stop!”

“I have no interest in talking with them or with you, brother.”

“I’ll talk sense into them. They’re angry and suffering. You can’t hold that against them.”

“I can and I will,” he snarled. “They have no care for me or mine. Why should I suffer to hear their opinions when you and I both know they would strangle her in her sleep if they were given the chance?”

Gunnar rushed ahead of him, slamming his hands on Ragnar’s chest and throwing him back. They both stared at each other for a moment. The violence in Gunnar’s touch was enough to set them both off, but Ragnar feared what would happen if he fought his brother. He wasn’t certain they would ever come back from this moment.

Then they both lunged. Tusks locking, they grappled. But they were brothers, and they had fought like this many times. If there was anyone who could best him, it was Gunnar. But the same could be said for Ragnar. They knew each other’s weaknesses. And as they pushed, shoved, punched at each other’s ribs, they knew what to do to avoid every attack or make it hurt when one of them made a mistake.

Gunnar managed a strike that hit Ragnar’s chest hard enough to knock the wind out of him. It silenced the growls coming from his throat long enough for Gunnar to shout, “You cared little for her only moments ago! What changed?”

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