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Page 21 of A Darkness So Sweet (The Kingdom Below #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

MAIA

Gunnar had to drag Maia home before Ragnar was finished. She didn’t want to leave him there by himself, suffering by overusing his magic. His hands were shaking with effort, his posture had curved in on himself, and his usually lovely lavender shade had turned into a strange pale color.

Maia hadn’t known anyone could use magic like he did. Humans rarely ever used their power, if they even had it to begin with.

But watching him was magic in itself. She could see the trolls’ bones rearranging themselves underneath his touch. All it took was a single grimace from Ragnar and the entire wound he touched would close. The power that he had inside of him… she couldn’t imagine how deep it went.

“Has he always done that?” she asked as Gunnar opened the door for her to go inside.

“Done what?”

“Stretched himself too thin for others?” Maia looked up into the broad green face of Ragnar’s brother, searching for something in those features that was familiar. But Gunnar was just as different to her as all the other trolls were.

He flashed her a sad smile. “That’s part of who we are. We stretch ourselves thin for everyone here. Those who can, do. Those who can’t appreciate the help that is given. Trolls are all a family here, no matter who came from who.”

“That seems... idyllic.”

“It’s not all fun and games. Trolls argue. Some of them leave the mountain entirely. Bad blood spreads and festers.” A troubled expression twisted his lips and furrowed his brows. He looked at the door, but then sighed. “Ragnar lost his oldest friend that way. It’s not all good here, but it is mostly good. We love our home and the people around us until they don’t wish to be loved any longer.”

Her heart broke for them. These were good people who had been handed nothing but suffering, and they deserved more than this. She stepped further into the room. The wisps lit up, casting blue light on all the rubble that surrounded them.

There was so much to repair. The ceiling had cracked in multiple places, raining down shards of stones all throughout the parlor. She’d been seated right underneath it, laughing about something Rota had said when she’d first heard it. The crack had felt like it came from deep within her bones.

She’d lunged off the couch at the same time Rota had reached for her. With their combined effort, she’d just barely gotten out of the way. Standing here now, her heart raced with the same fear. She’d almost died.

But thoughts like that didn’t help. So she pressed a hand to her chest, rubbed the ache there, and surveyed the room. There were three large pieces that she wouldn’t be able to move herself. One of those had destroyed the comfortable couch near the fire.

She sighed and shook her head. “So much to fix. It feels like trying to move a mountain.”

Then she heard what she said and immediately looked over at Gunnar. They stared at each other for a few moments before he burst into laughter. The dust covered troll laughed until tears tracked down his cheeks, and then he finally blew out a long breath to get ahold of himself. “It is, in fact, a mountain to move. But we’ve seen worse.”

She couldn’t imagine what worse could be. But, at the very least, Gunnar took the large stone on the couch with him as he left and locked the door behind him.

“No reason to sit in worry,” she muttered, before getting to work cleaning.

First, she took the time to pick up all the stones she could and put them in a pile in the corner. Maia had no idea where she was supposed to bring them, because it wasn’t like there was an easy place for them to be stored. Still, they could go in a corner until she was told what to do with them. Her husband had to have some kind of cleaning cabinet, so she spent far too long searching for that. Finally, though, she found a broom and a dustbin in the back corner of the kitchen.

Armed now against the dust, she made her way throughout the entire parlor. It took her four rounds of sweeping before she was done with it. She imagined that had taken her the better part of two hours, and he still wasn’t home.

The damage in the kitchen was significantly less than the rest of the house, so she went into the bedroom. Ragnar had yet to sleep with her, and it was just this morning that she realized why. A blanket had been left on the couch. He must have been sleeping out in the parlor most nights, but now there wasn’t anywhere else for him to sleep.

Unfortunately, cleaning gave her too much time to think about her new life. She mused that her husband was not who she thought he was, and that this entire situation was truly surreal. But also, would he plan to sleep in bed with her now that there was no other option? Why didn’t that sound so bad?

Perhaps she had gotten too caught up in everything. Only a few weeks ago, she’d been terrified of trolls and now she’d been tossed head first into the reality of their lives. Over and over again, she was slapped with the reality that these people weren’t as terrifying as she thought, and in fact, they were good people. Every bit of who they were made her want to like them.

No, it made her enjoy them. She’d been greatly enjoying her conversation with Rota while the entirety of the world had blown up in their faces.

And she found she was angry about that. These people didn’t deserve to lose their homes or be injured on safe streets. How could something like this happen to good people? Weren’t there supposed to be gods looking out for people who helped each other? Bad things shouldn’t happen to good people.

But they did. Bad things happened every day to good people, and she knew that, but it still stung for her to see it happen in real time.

She’d gotten the bedroom clean in her frenzied anger and then there was nothing left to do. Maia got ready for bed, feeling a bit numb that she was going to try to sleep when the streets were still covered in blood. But there wasn’t anything she could do. Her magic was weak, just like the trolls had said. She laid down in bed, staring up at the cracked and chipped ceiling, and something in her soul just wouldn’t settle.

How could it?

Ragnar had thought she wouldn’t help. That statement still rankled. He’d thought she would just let the trolls suffer, and what? Laugh in glee that they’d gotten what they deserved?

He still thought she was a villain.

Time passed slowly. Or perhaps quickly—she wasn’t all that sure. All she knew was that one moment she was staring up at the ceiling, and the next, she heard movement in the room adjacent to hers. Tilting her head to the side, she watched the silhouette of her massive husband walk into the bathroom.

For a moment, she just let herself look at him. She listened to the low murmur of his voice as he asked the wisps to be dim, so they didn’t wake her. His shoulders were curved in what looked like defeat. She’d always seen him with such power in his body. Even though he wasn’t a warrior like some of the other trolls, Maia thought of him as strong and powerful as the others.

Now, as he limped into the bathroom and fell quietly to his knees in front of the tub, she saw him in a different light. This was a broken man. A wounded man. One who had seen too much pain from his people and who had taken it on himself. He was aching and sad, and there was so little she could do.

But she was here. So she sat up, got out of bed, and made her way to the bathroom.

His shoulders moved up and down with heavy breaths. His white shirt was smeared with dirt and blood. His clawed hands rested against his thighs, and she could see that three of his claws had cracked right down the middle.

Tears burning in her eyes, she gently placed her hand on his shoulder. “How can I help?”

“There’s nothing left to do. I have nothing left to the give them and there are so many more who still need help.” Even his voice was raspy, as though he’d lost his voice hours ago. “I wish to rest, wife. That’s all.”

Maia knew what it was like to have no more emotions to give. But she also knew this troll. She knew he didn’t want to get into bed with dirt on him, even less than he wanted to get into bed with her. And that was all right. She could sleep in one of the chairs. She’d slept in worse before.

Quietly, she reached for the hem of his shirt. He said nothing as she helped pull it over his head. The moment his shoulders had to rise, he let out a long groan that made her wince. He had pushed himself too hard, even beyond using so much of his magic.

They got the shirt off, though, and she let it drop onto the floor. He used the edge of the tub to stand and then waved a hand at her. “I can do the rest.”

“You don’t look like you can.”

“It’s just a quick wash. I’m not so helpless that I cannot do that myself.”

“Then you can wash all the bits that are hard to reach,” she scolded.

Part of her screamed to just let him do it. Her ears were already burning bright red at the thought of undressing a man. She’d never done this before. The few and meager interactions she’d had with men had been behind her father’s house. A quick, stolen moment where all their clothing had remained on. The first man to see her entirely naked had been him.

Placing her hands on the waistband of his pants, she gently tugged them down. He didn’t argue further. Instead, he just let her shift them down over the round globes of his ass, down those powerful thighs that had caught her attention from the first day she’d seen him, and down to the clawed toes that gripped onto the floor even as he lifted first one leg, then the other.

Maia reached for the faucet and turned it on, just as he had for her. But instead of looking, as she desperately wanted to, she busied herself gathering up the necessary supplies of soap and towels. For a man as large as him, he certainly had tiny towels. She couldn’t imagine they were even capable of wrapping around his waist.

She heard the sound of water trickling and then the long groan as he plunged himself into the warm water. It was safe enough for her to turn around now, she supposed.

And when she did, all the breath was sucked free from her lungs. He leaned against the back of the tub, his arms on the edges, his head tilted back so all she could see were the planes of his chest and the hot steam that surrounded him. She didn’t care that blood streamed off of him, down his collarbone, and dripped from his claws. All that mattered were the muscles that were a feast for her gaze and the way he looked so thoroughly delicious.

Swallowing hard, she grabbed a few wash cloths and approached him. “You can’t save everyone, Ragnar.”

He blinked one eye open and then closed his eyes again. “I can save as many people as I can save. I learned that a long time ago, fire hair.”

“Then why are you punishing yourself for not saving more of them?”

He grunted.

What a response, she thought. Dipping the cloth into the water, she lathered soap on it before tapping his hand. “Here,” she said. “Take this.”

He looked down at the cloth and arched a brow.

“You said you didn’t want me to wash you. I’m holding you to that. If you’re as well as you say you are, then you can manage it on your own, big man.”

He grunted again but grabbed the cloth from her with a hand that shook only a little. She knew he’d likely expected her to wash him despite his protests, but she would not do that when he was being like this. He could earn that treatment, but she wouldn’t do it just because he expected it.

Hilariously, he washed himself. He was brisk and rough, his lavender skin darkening with all of his efforts. And throughout it all, she just watched him. Cushioning her chin on the edge of the tub, she kept her gaze on his face and shoulders and not on the intriguing piercings that were surely just underneath the edge of the water if she wanted to look. But right now wasn’t about that. She just wanted to look at him and note every time he winced or let out a little exhausted breath.

To his credit, he let her. She knew it must’ve been a little strange to have someone staring while he bathed. But he didn’t ask her to stop.

Although eventually he did ask, “What are you doing?”

“Getting used to you.”

“How so?”

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’ve never been around so many trolls. I’m getting used to it, I guess. The more I look at you, the less strange you become.”

“You find me strange?”

“Well, you aren’t human.”

He gave her an unimpressed look. “And I’m glad for that.”

Maia grinned. “I knew you would say that.”

He shook his head at her, clearly unimpressed at her grin. But she swore his lips twitched a little, too.

Soon enough, he was finished, and the water was getting colder. The moment Ragnar placed his hands on the side of the tub, she jolted to her feet and held out the towels. “I’ll let you dry off.”

She was running away from what would be revealed when he stood. She didn’t want to know what he looked like naked just yet, or to gawk at what she was certain to be terrifying. And right now didn’t feel like the time for her to look her fill. Not after everything they’d just gone through.

Darting back into the room, she got back underneath the covers and yanked them up to her chin. She even rolled so her back was to the bathroom door, just so she wouldn’t know when he left. He’d never slept in the same bed as her. Tonight that wouldn’t change. If she saw him leaving, Maia feared she would beg him to stay.

But soon, she felt the mattress dip underneath his weight. Like he’d put a knee on the edge and then thought better of it. Because then that weight was gone for only a moment before the covers lifted.

A warm body tucked into the bed with her, and then an even warmer hand palmed her waist. She wasn’t sure what was happening until he dragged her back against his muscular, broad chest. Ragnar took a deep breath, those muscles shifting along his ribs before he heaved a sigh that stirred her hair.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Hush, my wife. I need to remember that something is alive tonight.”

“Oh.”

That hand on her waist moved up her chest, landing on her ribs. His fingers curved under her left breast. Maia held her breath, wondering if he would do more, but then she realized he was falling asleep.

His hand was over her heart. Ragnar had moved them so that he could fall asleep with her heart beating against his palm, all because he had lost so many people today that he needed to know she was alive. Just so that he could finally rest.

She pressed her hand over his, holding him a little tighter.