Page 85 of A Light So Blinding
But it was already too late. Rose’s eyes stared into her own, wide and haunted and filled with memories that Astrid couldn’t fix. “Please don’t make me go back. I can’t do it again. I can’t. I’m rotting away inside, Astrid. It’seatingme.”
“What is eating you?”
“The memories,” Rose gasped. And then her pretty voice twisted into something snarled and tangled, like the roots of a tree had grown into her soul. “Them. They’re still eating me from the inside out.”
She’d never seen her sister like this before. Both mourning and aching and raw. Rose had always been a delicate girl. Sensitive in a way that Astrid couldn’t understand. Her sister was gentle and delicate, and now...
Those shaking hands turned to claws beneath hers. The fingers stiffened and tore at her thighs. “The king wanted to give me to one of them, and I refused. I said I wouldn’t go. He pushed, he yelled, he threatened, and then I slapped him.” Rose hiccupped. “I slapped him, and he sent me away into the darkness and the shadows, where there were only more hands thattook. They took everything from me, Astrid.”
Tears burned Astrid’s eyes. She didn’t know how to help her sister. Her magic swelled inside of her, whispering that she could take away the pain. She pulled on it slightly, tugging at those memories to give her sister some relief, but even touching those emotions made Astrid recoil in fear.
“That’s more than enough,” a deep voice interrupted them.
The green troll from before strode into the room, looming above them with his arms crossed over his chest. His hair was wild, not bound like many of the trolls here. He glared at her again, and then gruffly said, “Rose, head back to the house.”
The snapping order was one her sister apparently could not refuse. She scurried away, her head low, her arms wrapped around her waist. Like she didn’t want anyone to see her.
Astrid waited until her sister had left the room before asking, “What happened to her?”
“Years in your labyrinth,” the green troll snarled. “It wasn’t only the men who were ruined there, Priestess.”
He followed her sister out of the room, like a great cat stalking a mouse. Astrid was left seated on that comfortable couch, wondering what had happened to her sister, and how she was going to fix this.
Thirty-Two
Bjorn
Bjorn watched Astrid go with his heart in his throat. He was pleased that her sister was here, and seemingly unharmed. It was a relief to know that Astrid would finally get what she wanted. But it made him nervous, too.
What if Rose wanted to leave this place?
What if they both wanted to return to the human kingdom, where he couldn’t go? He’d tried to be a good husband. To prove to Astrid that he would be someone worthwhile to remain with. They could build a life together here, even if it wasn’t the life she was used to. Now was the moment when he would find out if that was enough.
But he hadn’t been given enough time. There was so much more he wanted to prove to her. So much more that he could do to give her the right first impression.
Doing that in Trollveggen was, apparently, going to be much more difficult than he had originally thought. All the warlords around the table stared at him with expectations in those gazes. Even the king himself had called him the Destroyer.
They wanted him to be like his father. They hoped that he would be. These warlords expected a beast of a man who could plow through any and all soldiers that stood in his way, no matter the pain that was caused or the wounds that were acquired. He was expected to be just like Dag the Destroyer. His father had been a renowned fighter simply because of the insanity with which he’d fought.
Bjorn didn’t want to be that person. But if he didn’t have Astrid, what else did he have? This was his future, no matter the cost.
He squared his shoulders and turned his attention to his king. Slowly, he dropped onto one knee and pressed his hand to his heart. “I have returned, King Egil.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner, boy. That is a fault of our own, and one I apologize sincerely for. You should never have been there that long.”
Bjorn almost choked when he felt the king’s hand on his shoulder. He’d never seen the king touch another like this, not in kindness or deference for what another troll had gone through. It was unprecedented.
Trying hard not to get choked up, he cleared his throat. It was hard for him to accept this kind of treatment. Bjorn had been taken when he was a young man, and he wasn’t a young man anymore. But he still wasn’t old. He wasn’t ancient. He just... felt like it.
The king patted his shoulder again, and then addressed the other warlords. “Our destroyer has returned! With a bloodline from berserkers, we now have our shield. Our people are whole again, but there are many still to save. Together, we will break into the human king’s castle, and we will take back all those who are ours. We will destroy this labyrinth once and for all. We will fill it with earth and blood, crumbling it into ruin to send a message to all humans. The trolls will not break easily.”
A cry rose from the twenty warlords at the table. Each of them thirsted for blood, and so should’ve Bjorn.
But even the thought of it made him shudder. Returning to that place would be hard enough, but knowing he had to return only to fight again? Even if it was fighting to free the others, even if it was the right thing to do...
He was tired. Tired of fighting, of battle, of blood. He wanted a quiet life, with a quiet place to rest his head.
He’d been running for such a long time. Even before Astrid had freed him, Bjorn had never felt like he was safe. Even thinking back to when he’d been a child here, he wasn’t sure he’d known what safe felt like. His mother and father had always argued. Dag had wanted him to be a warrior. His mother had wanted him to delve deeper into his magic and ability to control animals. Everyone had expectations of him considering who his parents were, and he... he just wanted it all to be silent.
