Page 72 of Wrapped in Their Arms

“Now then, the three of you get comfortable,” theTrolloxsaid, his voice echoing through all three rooms.“Andwhen you’re ready, just go down the hallway there and you’ll find the kitchen where the cook will feed you.Begood little piggy-wigs and enjoy your dinner and a good night’s sleep.Tomorrowyour duties will begin.”

He stumped away, the floor trembling under his weight.Buthis rancid, fungal stench lingered like a curse.

Noelle stood in her room, hugging her arms to herself—carefully, so she didn’t get shocked again—and felt a cold dread slide down her spine.

Are we trapped here?Willwe ever see home again?

And worse…

What does he really want from us?

The hugeTrolloxhadn’t just bought them just to have more servants…had he?

Noelle swallowed hard, her throat tight, her body aching and hot and strange.

Something deep in her gut whispered that whatever was coming next

was going to be much worse than cleaning a giant’s house.

39

BURN

Burn stood in the middle of his room, arms crossed over his chest, scowling at the absurdly oversized bed.Itlooked less like a place to sleep and more like a training mat built for giants—hell, all three of them could curl up in one corner and still have space left over.Thewhole house was like that.Oversized…alien…unsettling.

Gods,Ihate sleeping alone,he thought, glancing at the heavy wooden headboard.Thelast time he’d slept in a bed withoutBrightclose by had been…what?Yearsago?Longer?Evenon theMotherShip, they always shared quarters.Theydidn’t touch—that was a boundary neither one of them would cross—butBright’spresence grounded him and held the nightmares at bay.

Now, with these massive empty rooms and the echo of that damnTrollox’slaughter still rattling in his ears,Burnfelt…off balance.Vulnerablein a way he didn’t care to admit.

He shook himself and forced his attention to the room itself.Asidefrom the hulking bed, there was a wardrobe built of some dark, oily-smelling wood, so tall he had to crane his neck to see the top.Thehandles were as thick as his forearm.Burnpulled one open, expecting to see nothing but empty shelves.

Instead, to his surprise, there were clothes—neatly folded, almost as if someone had been expecting guests.Ormaybe prisoners, he thought grimly.

He pulled out a pair of black trousers, rough-woven and sturdy.Theylooked like they might fit him, soBurntried them on.Theywere a bit tight around his thighs, but anything was better than the fucking leather loincloth.Hestripped it off and threw it across the room.Hefound a loose shirt too, but decided to stay bare-chested for now—his skin was still burning from all the stress and his nerves were as tight as steel cables.

As he buckled the trousers, he wondered,Whoseclothes are these?Whowore them last?

He didn’t like the possible answers that rose to his mind.

He heard a noise at the door and turned—Brightstood there, looking a little lost in the cavernous hallway, still wearing his own tight loincloth.

“Hey—where’d you get the clothes?”Brightasked, lookingBurnup and down.

“Found them in my closet.There’smore if you want to wear something else,”Burngrunted, jerking his chin toward the wardrobe.

Bright stepped inside eagerly—he clearly didn’t like wearing the leather loincloth any more thanBurndid.Hedug through the shelves and found another pair of trousers in dark gray, and a shirt that actually fit his broad shoulders.

He slid into the clothes, frowning as he buttoned the shirt.

“I wonder who these belonged to?It’sclear we’re not the first humanoid ‘guests’ thisTrolloxhas had.”Helooked up, troubled.“Sowhat happened to the others?”

Burn didn’t have an answer.

Maybe they escaped.Maybethey didn’t.Maybethey’re rotting somewhere out in that massive garden, feeding the flowers with their bones.

He shoved the thought aside—it didn’t help anyone to spiral.

Before he could say anything, the door opened again andNoellecame in.Shelooked small, flushed, and fierce, her breasts still jutting obscenely through that shiny green dress, cheeks pink from embarrassment or nerves or both.