Page 15 of A Light So Blinding
“I will not.”
“I need to make it out of here alive.” Those fingers flexed against his spine. “And if that requires whatever King James asks, then that is what I will do.”
Damn it, she was right. But he wasn’t going to kill her, no matter how much they wanted to watch that. Glaring at the king, he stood there and waited for King James to make his move.
The king merely spread his arms wide. “Did the priestess talk some sense into you?”
“I will not kill her.”
The priestess sucked in a harsh breath. Perhaps she hadn’t been aware of what King James was suggesting. Maybe she didn’t know the rumors about him after all, and something in him unraveled. A knot that had been tied so tightly, wondering what kind of woman would choose to side with a killer.
King James chuckled, and the sound echoed through the silent arena as though it had been amplified by magic. “That’s fine. Fuck or fight, I don’t care what you do. But all these people came here for a show, troll, and you’re going to give them one!”
Bjorn didn’t know which was worse. This woman would likely prefer death than to have his hands on her. She should. He had killed more people with these hands than she could count. He would continue to kill people for as long as he was lost in this labyrinth as well.
Dirty hands shouldn’t touch pretty things.
He turned to her, his mind spinning with how to get them out of this situation. But he couldn’t think through the red rage that still tinged his vision. Bjorn was built to fight. That was who his father was, and who he had become in this labyrinth. He knew how to get out of situations with his fists and his horns, not with... with...
Rabbit’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Do what I tell you, and I think we’ll all get out of this alive.”
“Rabbit,” he hissed. “Stay out of this.”
“Stop talking and turn toward the woman, you fucking nitwit.”
The hissed words were clearly said through lips that weren’t moving. Some of the words were lisped, harder to say around their tusks. He was speaking in the common tongue, though, likely for the woman to understand what they were saying.
Body stiff with displeasure, Bjorn turned toward her and froze. She was blinding.
A smear of blood had splattered across her cheek at some point during the battle. Her perfect hair was still smooth as silk, not a single strand daring to go against the rest. Her crystal blue eyes looked up at him with so much trust, and she shouldn’t trust a troll like him. He was unpredictable. Even now, his handswere shaking as he stood in front of her, trying to pretend this wasn’t happening to either of them.
Rabbit whispered, “Touch her, for the love of all the gods. Make it seem like you’re going to do what King James told you to do.”
“I will not hurt her,” he growled.
“No one is expecting you to. Just touch her for a few seconds.” Then Rabbit seemed to hesitate before adding, “If the lady doesn’t mind.”
A peculiar expression traveled across her face. It was a bit like surprise, but he couldn’t guess at what she was surprised about. Maybe it was that they’d asked. Maybe she assumed they would be as animalistic as her own people.
She nodded demurely and said, “Whatever we must do. You have my permission to touch me, Bull.”
He hated her calling him that. Hated it deep to the marrow of his bones. He couldn’t stop a word from blurting out of his mouth.
“Bjorn,” he said as he haltingly stepped toward her.
“Your name?” she asked, again in that almost pristine voice that shook ever so slightly. “I’m Astrid.”
He nodded and then reached for her. Damn it, his hand was too big to touch her. He could have palmed her entire head in his hand if he wished, and there wasn’t a safe place for him to lay his hand without ruining her dress. Bjorn had forgotten that he was coated in the blood of her kind.
So instead of grabbing her like Rabbit likely wanted him to do, he ran a trembling claw down the line of missing beads over her hip. He stepped ever closer, until a breath would have pressed their chests together, and something in himyearned.
He wanted to touch those beads. He desperately needed to graze his finger along that line of exposed flesh that he knewwould be soft and velvety. For once in so many years, he wanted to know what something delicate felt like.
His talon scraped along the sheer fabric underneath, but Bjorn had long ago forgotten how to be gentle. He was horrified to see his claw had left a red mark in its wake, and there was nothing he could say that would excuse such a touch. She deserved better. She shouldn’t have to subject herself to the vile touch of a man like him.
Except... she grabbed onto his hand and pulled him a little closer to her.
“I think I have an idea of what your friend Rabbit is suggesting,” she murmured as she stepped so close he could smell the mint on her breath. “But I do believe we’ll have to be much closer for it to work.”
