Page 24 of A Darkness So Sweet (The Kingdom Below #1)

Chapter Twenty-Four

RAGNAR

Ragnar returned home, dripping in the blood of Maia’s people and riding on the high of vengeance. He had made them suffer. He had watched as countless human men begged him for mercy and he had given them none. He’d made sure to cut them in ways that they would never heal from. Ways that would take days or weeks to die before they finally had suffered enough for what they had done to his people.

And still, it didn’t feel like it was enough. He wanted to wipe the stain of them from the entire face of his kingdom. The trolls deserved to live in the sun without fear, if that was what they wished. They deserved so much more than being trapped inside a mountain, knowing that the humans had figured out a way inside.

The war band stood before their king, all kneeling as they reported what they had seen. And at the end of it, their king bid them all to rise.

He was tired. Ragnar could feel the exhaustion in the old troll long before he even looked and saw the bags underneath his eyes. At some point in their report, King Egil had removed his crown. It dangled from his fingers, the truest symbol of defeat that he had ever seen.

“So, the humans know how to find our paths now.” The king heaved a long, regretful sigh. “That complicates things.”

Gunnar was the first to stand, pounding a fist against his chest. “I would gladly set up the first watch, my king. My warriors will ensure that no human succeeds in destroying more of our roads into this sacred home.”

“It is an honorable thing you ask to do, but there are not enough trolls to watch every entrance, and certainly not enough of us to stop the humans if they try more. We will set up scouts so we know which of the entrances they are targeting and nothing more.”

The words weren’t enough to satisfy the war band. They were all dripping in blood. Ragnar could see the crusted, dried flakes settling on the stone floor where all of them stood. They had destroyed everyone who had dared, but there would always be more.

But then the king continued, and Ragnar realized the wisdom in this choice. “We will hide the entrances better, but first, I must know which ones the humans are aware of. Those are the ones we will allow them to destroy. Let them cave in the entrances, or even better, we will do it ourselves so that it is controlled and no one else gets hurt. I do not want even a single human knowing how to enter Trollveggen.”

Gunnar nodded. “I can send out scouts to listen in on the human conversations. It shouldn’t take long for us to be in the basements of the barracks yet again. Last time it took them two weeks to realize we had tunneled our way in.”

“Be careful. Clearly, their king has plans. After the betrayal with his daughter, I am inclined to believe their king wanted that entire wedding to be a message.” King Egil’s eyes darkened, and Ragnar’s skin crawled with the sensation of magic that rolled off of the king’s body and onto the floor like mist. “He will learn how foolhardy that act was.”

All the trolls let out a synonymous growl that echoed throughout the room, but then they were dismissed. There was nothing Ragnar could do. He wanted to destroy the damn world because of what the humans had done, and he knew the other trolls in the war band felt the same. Unfortunately, they had to wait.

He headed toward his home, pausing only when Gunnar called out to him.

“Brother!”

Ragnar turned and waited for his brother to catch up with him.

“Be gentle with her,” Gunnar said, and there was worry in his eyes. Ragnar hadn’t recognized it at first, but now he could see the fear. As though his brother feared he would take these emotions out on his wife.

“I’m always gentle with her,” he replied with a quiet sigh. “It’s hard not to be when she is so delicate.”

It hadn’t even crossed his mind to purge some of this anger on her. Maia had proven herself worthy of him, but it was worrisome that his brother feared what he would do to the delicate creature. Clearly, she had made an impression on Gunnar. But somewhere along the way, Ragnar had given his brother reason to worry.

Perhaps that was partly because of the wedding. Perhaps it was that the first thing he had said to his bride was that he would never be her husband. And now he was returning to her dripping in the blood of his enemies, who were her people.

He had a lot of explaining to do, and perhaps some healing of his own. He trudged back toward his home, knowing without a doubt that he would need to tell her what had happened. If he didn’t, someone else eventually would.

Maia, up until this point, had only seen him as a healer. He feared that some part of her thought that was all he was. Dealing with someone who wasn’t active in the fight was likely easier for her when she was trying to reconcile what the trolls were going to do. War was brewing. And he wasn’t so much of a fool to think this wouldn’t affect her.

He stopped by the public baths before he got home. At the very least, he could arrive at their doorstep not covered in blood. While he scrubbed the deaths of her people from his skin, he tried to figure out what to tell her.

Perhaps he should lead with something along the lines that he didn’t want to hurt her. It might be good to state that he had no interest in making her life harder, or taking out these feelings on her, as Gunnar feared. Then she would know that he was serious. He still saw her as a human, but not like...

No, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t even say she wasn’t like the others, because she was. He knew she was. There were both good and bad people in every species, from the elves, to the trolls, to the humans. He’d have to be a fool not to recognize that, and so would she.

He couldn’t say he didn’t even see her as human. She was. And it wasn’t that she was different from anyone else. He knew there were countless good humans. There had to be.

So what would he say?

He was embarrassed at how long it took to clean the blood from his skin as he tried to figure out the correct words. But by the time he stood in front of his own house, he was still tongue tied. No path made what he had done right, but no path said he was wrong either.

Blowing out a breath, he just opened the door and walked in. The least he could do was get inside and say what was on his mind. He would tell her the truth and then see what she said about that. If she wanted to yell at him, throw things, scream and rage, then beg to go back home, he would endure it all. She deserved that.

He walked into the parlor and furrowed his brow in confusion. He’d expected there to be far more rubble in here, considering the state that it had been in yesterday. But where he had seen small rocks in the corner and broken furniture, now the parlor was nearly put back in order. The broken pieces of his couch were gone, and the stones had been removed. Even the rug had been beaten free from dust and shards that had clung to the thick weaves.

A clanking noise in the kitchen caught his attention. He hadn’t expected her to cook, not when there were plenty of other trolls that enjoyed cooking and were readily happy to trade services for cooking. At least then he didn’t have to do it.

He walked through the doorway and froze at the vision before him.

She wore traditional troll garb, although it was modest for his people. The dress was sewn to look like dragon scales. The pinched green fabric created triangles up and down the tightened bodice and then disappeared into the skirt that clung to her broad hips and strong glutes. Her arms were bare, a dusting of freckles covering the sun kissed skin that was just now starting to become less red and more of a tanned burnish. Her hair was swept back from her features, the long sway of the tail at the top of her head moving as she fairly flew throughout the entirety of the kitchen.

The air smelled strongly of rosemary and freshly baked bread. He could see a few loaves of it were already out, and he suspected there were plenty more of them in the oven if the entire room smelled like this.

But all of his attention was on her. On the graceful sway of her hips as she turned toward his massive oven and pulled more bread out of the heat there. On the freckles that he desperately wanted to lick, and the way her hair swayed so temptingly at the middle of her back, pointing where he could loosen that dress and rip it off of her.

He reached above his head, bracing his arm on the doorframe just so that he didn’t fly at her and devour her whole.

Maia finally noticed him and nearly dropped the bread in her hands. “Oh! Ragnar. I didn’t hear you return.”

“I’m quiet.”

“Clearly,” she replied, her gaze on him like he was about to pounce on her at any moment. Maybe she could see it in his eyes.

His claws dug into the stone. “Why are you making so much bread?”

She set the bread on the counter next to the row of them that were already waiting. “Inkeri said there were a lot of families that were affected by the cave-in. So I wanted to make sure that everyone had a chance to eat. It... Well, it’s the least I could do.”

“You’ve already helped enough, Maia.”

She blinked. “Why wouldn’t I do more? People need help. I’m able to give it.”

He wanted to say that many weren’t willing to give that help. But there were no words on his tongue, only need. He barreled across the room like a man possessed, grabbing her by the waist and setting her on top of the counter next to all the bread.

“Ragnar!” she said, her hands slapping on the stone behind her as she stared at him in surprise. He stood between her spread legs, drinking in the sight of her in the garb of the trolls, and he couldn’t help himself. He palmed the back of her neck and kissed her.

Ragnar had no idea how to kiss a human. With trolls, there were only certain angles that worked. Mostly because of their tusks, and no one wanted to crack those together. But with a human, kissing was all soft skin and warm, pliant lips. Maia melted into him, just like she had last night. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her back arching to press her chest against him.

Kissing her felt like the entire world ceased to be. Like he could only focus on the way her lips moved beneath his, and the way she let out a little gasp when he caught her lower lip and gently bit it.

She pulled back after that, breathing hard and staring at his tusks with curious intent. “Are you... You’ll be careful with these?”

“Wasn’t I careful before?” Ragnar rasped, heat flooding through his body at the memory of the last time he’d tasted her. “I don’t remember you complaining the last time, wife.”

“Oh, you mean to...” Her face turned bright red, and he thought that was his new favorite color. The deep blush that spread across her face, down her neck, and all the way down her chest was so lovely because he knew exactly what it meant.

He fell to his knees before her, the countertop putting her at the perfect height for him to glide the fabric of her skirt over her thighs. He took his time feeling the warm skin, drawing his claws up her inner thighs and watched the bumps raise wherever he touched.

“I have missed your taste, wife,” he murmured, rubbing his tusks just beside her knee and starting a slow journey upward.

“Didn’t you just...” She shuddered as he pressed a wet kiss to her skin. “You just did this.”

“You think once is enough?”

“I would think once every other week would suffice.”

He yanked the fabric up to her hips, using that movement to control her body and splay her out for his pleasure. And gods, she was beautiful. All smooth skin and freckles leading to a small thatch of hair that hid all the world’s treasures from his gaze.

He would beg her if she wanted him to. And as he stared up her body at her red face and strangely flustered expression, he had a feeling that was exactly what she needed right now. “Weekly isn’t enough. Daily is hardly enough. I will never stop wanting to taste you.”

“That’s…” she whispered, her cheeks going even redder.

His claws flexed against her hips. “Please, wife. Let me taste you.”

Something flared in her eyes. It was like he could see another being awaken underneath her skin, suddenly discovering a desire that she hadn’t realized she had. A desire that she wished to feed.

Maia licked her lips, and he watched that pretty pink tongue dart out. He wanted that tongue in his mouth, on his body, teasing his cock. He wanted to know what she could do with it, and more so, he wanted to know what would please her when she used it.

“Again,” she whispered, as though the word felt foreign on her tongue.

“I am begging you,” he said, dragging his tusks so close to where she needed him. Where he could see the faintest shine of her desire. “I’ve had a very long day, wife. I would love nothing more than to lick you here. To feed you my fingers until you beg for my cock. I want you writhing underneath me, all that pretty skin turning bright pink as it always does. I want to hear your moans again. Let me fill this room with the sound of your pleasure.”

That flush spread even further. She was panting now, her chest rising and falling with need. All he desired was for her to let go. He wanted her to give him the single word that would allow him to devour her whole.

“If I say no?” she asked.

“Then I will go to the tavern with my brother. I will leave you here to bake in this room, to fill it with more of your bread.” He blew out a long breath, knowing it would make her shiver. “But I’m praying you do not say no.”

His muscles were so tight he felt like he was shaking. But then she met his gaze and said, “Taste me, husband.”