Page 58 of A Light So Blinding
“Is this something you have seen in the smoke?” Again, the words were strange. She asked the questions like no matter what Ylva said next, she would believe them. Like this was the truth that this woman could see the future.
It was preposterous. These were the words of an insane person, and she shouldn’t assume that Ylva could see the future. No human could. Why could a troll?
And yet, she still leaned forward ever so slightly, hoping that she could indeed see a time where Rose didn’t want Astrid to end this bond.
But Ylva shrugged. “I can only see the future of those who ask. Are you asking me to look into your future, Astrid?”
She didn’t know.
Knowing the future felt like a sharp sword that she was holding flat side against her skin. If she tilted it just right, it would cut her.
She licked her lips and then shook her head. “No, I don’t think I want to know my future.”
“Then don’t ask questions.” Ylva stood, heading back toward the kitchen. “I can tell you have power in you, but if you have nowish to see how that power can change and grow here, then I will not force you.”
Astrid remained on the sofa, not sure that she’d made the right choice. Finally, she clutched her fingers together and said, “I don’t know what I want right now. I’m afraid there’s much for me to consider.”
“Yes, I’ve given you far more than you wanted to think about.” She nodded toward the door on the far right. “That will be your bedroom. If Bjorn returns tonight, I’ll send him in to you.”
Astrid had already made it halfway to the door before the words registered. “You’ll... send him in?”
“Of course. You’re mated. Therefore, you will share a bed.” His mother raised a brow. “Unless you would have him sleep on the floor?”
She could hear the judgment in Ylva’s tone that warned she had only one response that would be appropriate. So Astrid bared her teeth in what she hoped looked like a smile and said, “Yes, of course. How silly of me.”
Then she walked into the bedroom, shut the door, and pressed her forehead against it. She hadn’t expected life to get so much more complicated here among the trolls. But she supposed she should have.
Now she had to have dinner with his mother alone. How tense would that be?
Twenty-Two
Bjorn
Bjorn tried to stay away for as long as he could allow himself. He had known his emotions were going to be a problem. He’d felt them bubbling up more and more the longer they were here.
This was complicated. He wanted to feel like his old self, but he also knew that wasn’t possible. He wanted the memories of his time in the labyrinth to disappear, but they couldn’t.
He wanted to stay bonded with the woman who made him feel more like a man than he had in ages.
But that wasn’t going to happen either.
The forest held no answers for him. He could hear the trees whispering, their leaves shifting against each other as they surveyed the son who had returned to them. But none of them knew how to ease the torment in his chest. They could not move. They had not seen the battle and rage and blood that he had seen.
And when he returned to his mother’s home, he did not know what to do with himself. All he knew was that life couldn’t be thesame as it was before. He would have to be the one to disappoint more people, telling them that he wasn’t who they expected him to be.
His mother stepped out of her home, quietly closing the door behind her. He hadn’t expected her to still be awake. The moon was high in the sky, nearly rounding the highest portion and then turning down into the later parts of the evening. She should’ve been asleep in her bed, not worrying about her son.
“Mother,” he said, lowering his head and hoping she saw that he was trying his best to respect her. “I should apologize for my actions?—”
“You apologize too much,” his mother said. She headed toward him, keeping their conversation from her house. “That woman in there is resting, and I expect you should want your troll wife to sleep.”
He winced at the term. “This is what I need to speak with you about.”
“She told me.”
The words hung between them, sharp and unfriendly. He hated that the first person he’d brought to his mother was someone who didn’t even want the bond with him. He should have brought a young woman who was just as obsessed with him as he was with her. That was what a troll wife and husband should’ve been.
But then he looked at his parents, at the hate that had brewed between them, and he couldn’t find it in himself to believe that all troll wives loved their husbands. He’d seen the truth of that in his own parents.
