Page 91 of A Darkness So Sweet

He tried to sense it at first. Perhaps the smell of earth and loam would do it. But every time he conjured up the scent of a garden, nothing happened. No magic burned at his fingertips. Perhaps the sight of it? He pictured Maia standing among the tomatoes with dirt smeared on her cheek and that wild smile on her face.

Still nothing.

He could hear the grumbles of the trolls around him, all of them clearly believing that this experiment of their king’s had failed. One last try—that was all he could think to do.

And there it was. The burst of basil on his tongue and the strange sensation of something foreign in his mind. Thensheuncoiled, blooming like the tiniest of seeds through a link between the two of them that he hadn’t realized was there. Maia’s magic stretched its roots within his own, and Ragnar lifted his hand.

Someone—Gunnar, he thought—placed a tiny seed on his palm. He could sense the magic in it. The power. The life that wanted to burst free if he would let it.

So he did.

Unlike healing magic, there was no guidance in this. He just gave the seed the spark, and the plant did the rest.

By the time he’d opened his eyes, a tiny seedling had sprouted on his palm. The little roots already dangled free from the edge of his hand, and the bright green leaves were as beautiful as they were delicate.

“Magnificent,” King Egil breathed. “And there’s our proof. Now, I need you all to join me on this plan, because it is a risk. I do truly believe, however, that if we wish to beat this king, first we will need to find all the human women who are willing and make ourselves a stronger enemy.”

The murmur of agreement from Ragnar’s brethren made something in his stomach twist. And when he looked at Gunnar, he could see his brother felt the same.

The winds of change blew through the throne room, and Ragnar wasn’t sure if that was good or not.

ChapterThirty-Seven

MAIA

Maia woke feeling deliciously sore between her legs and far more rested than she had been in ages. She wasn’t sure if that was the ridiculously good sex that had filled her afternoon yesterday, or the deep, dreamless sleep that had followed. Either way, she was grateful for both.

Maybe she could convince her husband to do that again. And soon.

Cheeks burning at the mere thought, she rolled over in bed to see if he was still here. Her fingers danced over a cold pillow and blankets that were wrapped around her body and no one else’s.

A pang of sadness made Maia bite her lip. She hated that it still felt like this. Ragnar was always up earlier. He headed out into the troll kingdom because he was a busy man with lots to do. Considering the trolls had used up a majority of the healing potions yesterday, she was certain he was back in the castle creating more, so he could restore what was needed.

Still, she would have liked one morning to wake up in his arms. Especially after yesterday.

But that was not the life she lived. Sighing, she stretched her entire body in one big heaving movement before she rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. Birger likely needed her help today, and she was going to keep herself distracted. No memories of blood were going to dog her steps today. She would keep her mind and hands busy until she couldn’t even see straight. And then, only then, was she going to sit down and maybe consider that what she’d seen had affected her.

As she got ready for the day, dragging on a pale blue dress that wrapped around her in little braids, a faint memory stirred. Not the one she had expected, as she’d been batting away the thought of that soldier with his hands on his belt all morning.

No, she remembered waking up and feeling a tug deep inside of her. A cool shiver had trailed between her shoulder blades, the same way she always felt when Ragnar was using his healing magic on her. But he hadn’t been here then. She even remembered vaguely reaching for him and having her hands come up empty.

When had that happened?

And what had happened?

Frowning, she marched toward the kitchen, only to find that the front door was already opening. Inkeri stepped inside, her lands laden with two cloaks.

“Are you sneaking into my house?” Maia asked, bemused by the other woman’s actions.

The troll woman jumped, before chuckling when she realized Maia was standing there. “Your house, is it? I believe that’s the first time I’ve heard you call it that.”

Maybe it was. She’d always considered this place to be Ragnar’s home. But after last night, the fight, and... everything else that had occurred, it was so much easier to look at this place and feel like it was hers as well.

“A woman can change her mind,” Maia finally replied.

“Especially when she fights like a warrior in battle. The entire city is talking about you, you know.” Inkeri held out the cloak for her to take.

“I didn’t fight that hard—trust me.”

---