Page 95 of A Darkness So Sweet

Her smile softened. “Troll things?”

“Troll things.” And that was why he was here, wasn’t it? He was supposed to talk with her about this plan of the king’s, one that required her to be a large player in this game.

But he didn’t want to talk to her about that. He wanted to exist in this bubble where it was just the two of them and no one else. He wanted her to be “fine”, as she kept insisting that she was, and to smile at him like that for a little while longer.

Maybe she knew him better than he realized. Because that smile he so adored fell from her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“I know that expression, Ragnar. Something is very much wrong, and you don’t want to tell me.”

She read him too easily. Scowling at her, he tried to play it off like it was nothing. “You’re too shrewd of a woman. Were you not afraid of me only a little while ago? You should measure that fear before you demand more of my attention.”

“Ragnar.”

“Fine,” he muttered. But he couldn’t look at her while he talked about it. So he let his head fall back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “The king has a plan and you’re part of it.”

“A plan for what?”

“To strengthen us against the humans. Likely to figure out what your king is up to as well. Although I have my doubts we’ll be able to successfully do that. Humans are very good at hiding what they’re doing when they want to keep such information secret.”

He let the silence between them fall, knowing that she was going to start asking questions soon. He wasn’t disappointed.

“What is his plan?” she quietly prodded.

“Because we have successfully bonded as troll and troll wife, he believes that proves such a bonding is... worthy of pursuit.”

That was a stupid way to say it.

Maia laid her head back down onto his chest, her cheek pillowed by her hands. “A bonding like ours? What does that mean?”

“Haven’t you noticed your magic is stronger with me? It’s not the place, it’s us.” He laid his hand on her back, drawing slow, measured circles there. “Apparently, with significant more practice, we can use each other’s magic without touching.”

“Really?” She popped back up again, her hair falling in front of her face with the movement. “Are you saying I could heal people?”

“You could try.”

“I could do what you do?”

“With practice,” he replied with a chuckle. Ragnar palmed the back of her neck and brought her back down to his chest. “Because of this, he wants to encourage more bonds like that. Previous human and troll pairings were rarely, if ever... willing.”

She stilled against him, and he knew this was a sensitive subject to bring up. Considering what she had just endured, there were likely better ways for him to have said it. He just hadn’t thought the words through until they were out of his mouth.

His brave little wife was quick to reply, “So other pairings couldn’t do that because one of them really didn’t want the other to use their magic?”

“Or neither of them did. My people have done horrible things to crawl out of the mud from which the elves made us.” He resumed rubbing her back, hoping she didn’t mind that he was doing so. “None of us are proud of that. But I cannot say that I regret what I was born from. I wouldn’t be here today, capable of such a conversation if not for all the work my people did in the past.”

Her fingers curved against his chest. “I don’t know what to think about all of that. I feel sorry for the poor women who were trapped here.”

“So do I. I know my lineage is full of human women who were terrified of their husbands, likely even hated them.” He flexed his stomach, drawing up to press a kiss against her hair. “But I honor their fear by treating you in the way they should have been treated all those years ago.”

She nodded against his chest. “I don’t have an ounce of that fear. At least, not anymore.”

“Good. Now the king sent a message to yours, stating that he would like an audience to prove that the... gift he gave us is still alive and well.” At her silence, he added, “That’s you.”

“Oh, yes, I realize that’s me. Your king wants to send me home?”

He tried to hear if there was hope in that tone. A part of him feared she would want to return home, that she would take any opportunity she could get to run.

---