Tamed by the Troll (The Perished Woods Book 1)

by Tracy Lauren

  “Any of the men in town could have left an hour before, taken a short ride up the road and found my parents. Maybe they could have even called for the doctor in time and saved them. Instead, I had to go alone. I had to climb down that muddy slope and drag my parents’ corpses from the muck all by myself.

  “When they found me later that evening everyone said I was in hysterics. They called the doctor to give me a sleeping aid. Between then and the funeral the whole town walked on eggshells, acting as if I my reaction was somehow shameful. Like the fact that I was in pain was somehow unappealing to them all, because good girls, good little wives, are supposed to be stupid and simpering and fall into a man’s arms when the world gets tough. I guess my emotions ran a little too hot for them,” she says bitterly.

  “My suiters dropped off after that. The few that stuck around were only after my parents’ house and land. That’s why Celia moved in, under the pretense of helping me protect what was rightfully mine. Though it quickly became apparent that she was as much of a vulture as the rest of them. I heard her talking with the doctor and the priest, trying to convince them that I was not mentally stable enough to remain in the house without professional care. She wanted to ship me off to a convent and needed their approval before she could.”

  “She didn’t get it,” I interject.

  “No, but she would have. Eventually. I had no friends left in that village. But that wasn’t what bothered me the most. My problem was that I just couldn’t fit my head around any of it. Everyone treated me like I was mad, but I’m just…I’m just mad. I’m angry I had to be the one to pull my parents from the mud. I’m angry that the pain I expressed in my moment of loss was judged by any of them. I can’t stand that all the empty-headed boys I used to flirt with lost interest in me because I had the audacity to emote. And that my only family preyed upon me like nothing more than a worthless carrion, an ugly obstacle stopping her from claiming what my parents had left to me!

  “And she worked me so hard, Brom! She worked me like her damn slave until I had no time for my own duties. And my parents’ home—their beautiful home that they raised me in was practically in ruins. My mother’s beloved garden reduced to weeds. Finally I just couldn’t take it anymore. I decided to let it wither. For weeks I had been ignoring my chores, the house, Aunt Celia…everything. I’d lie in the glen on the outside of town, sleeping the day away under the sun. I figured I’d let them all hate me. I’d let them think I was crazy and ignore their whispers, ‘she was such a beauty, what a waste,’ they’d say.

  “That’s where I was when the orcs came. It’s the only thing that saved me. If my parents hadn’t died that day, I’d have likely gotten married. Instead of being in the glen I’d have had a newborn babe in my arms when the town was raided. Now they’re all dead and I’m left feeling like a monster because I still hate them. Even now, I can’t get over the way they abandoned me when I needed them the most.

  “So that’s it. That’s my bitter story. I can’t be your slave, Brom, because I’m a slave to my own anger and it claimed ownership of me long before you ever did.”

  The tension in her body slips away and she leans on me, allowing me to support her.

  “I didn’t think you remembered my name,” I say finally, my chin resting on her shoulder.

  “Is that all you have to say?” she asks.

  “What does one say to all that pent up hurt? If there were words to lessen your burden, I’d give them to you freely, Adelaide.”

  She nods solemnly but seems unappeased. I want to give her more. I want to promise her that everything will be alright, that one day all her pain will wash away and she will be stronger for it in the end. But her discarded fishing pole twitches suddenly on the bank.

  We freeze, staring at it. It twitches again. Then, just before it’s yanked into the depths of the water and lost for good, Adelaide rips herself from my arms and dives for it, deftly catching the handle.

  Chapter 13

  Adelaide

  Shame from sharing rears its ugly head inside of me. I can’t bring myself to look at Brom. I bared my soul to him, sharing these wounds I’ve felt for the past year but have never spoken aloud. And I find that Brom is right. When I peel back the anger, there is a vast well of hurt lying just beneath the surface. And the pain is a lot scarier than my anger.

  The whole time I clean my fish, I feel Brom looking at me, scrutinizing my mood. I pass his fish knife back to him and rinse my hands in the water.

  “Do you want to go back home?” he asks finally.

  “My home is gone.”

  “I meant to my lair,” he corrects.

  “Oh.” I blush. “Of course.”

  “What do you want, Adelaide?”

  “Let’s go back. I’m feeling tired,” I say quickly.

  “Are you sure? We could go for a walk—”

  “No. I’d just like to go back.”

  He nods and reaches for my hand. I take it, accepting his help up the bank. We continue our walk toward the bridge crossing and I can’t help but notice he never lets go of my hand.

  Back in the troll’s lair he leaves me at the door. “I have a few quick things to do outside, Adelaide. Go ahead and start dinner. I’ll be in shortly to help.”

  I nod, my voice catching in my throat. I can’t help but feel like a fool over everything I shared with him. He runs one rough hand over my cheek before he steps out, and despite myself, I want to lean into it.

  The second he vanishes from the room I collapse on the rug before the fire. I was supposed to run away. Instead I shared my deepest secrets, exposing myself to Brom in a way I’ve never exposed myself to anyone before. Never in my life have I allowed myself to be so transparent and vulnerable. It leaves me trembling and ashamed.

  The wheels in my brain start turning. I need to find a way to salvage this and redeem myself. I’m not here to make friends with the troll. I need to get to Pontheugh and find my Aunt Ellyn. The troll is my enemy. He is my captor. And I need to escape.

  I hurry to his larder and start digging through the contents, intent on finding something that might help me. If only I could find something to poison him or make him ill. I stumble across his small stock of potions and I riffle through the jars. There are no labels. Nothing to tell me of the secret properties of the magic within.

  I’m hardly thinking straight when I put the pot over the fire. My mind keeps coming back to the night he hogtied me and left me naked on the floor. I feel the same way right now. So exposed…too exposed.

  Blindly, I dump vials into the pot and quickly dice potatoes, adding them to the mixture. I bank on the likelihood that all the magic I put in there will do something, hopefully offering me one last shot at escape. The smell in the room grows strange. It certainly does not have the scent of stew to it. Quickly, I grab spices and herbs from the shelves and crush them into the boiling water.

  I turn back to the larder, my mind clouded by the need to escape…the need to hide my ill deeds from the troll…and the dirty feeling I have running over my skin. I still feel naked and exposed. I fumble with some root vegetables, carrying them to the table in haste. I can’t quite remember where I left the knife.

  That’s when I notice the smoke billowing from the pot. To be honest, I don’t know how I didn’t notice it sooner. Covering my mouth, I hurry over to stir the fire and I trip over my own two feet. The sense of urgency makes my skin prickle and I push myself up, forgetting what I was supposed to be doing.

  I cough, turning in the mist and feeling lost. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remember that orcs are chasing me. I need to escape.

  That’s when Brom’s voice cuts through the haze. The path to him is clear and I remember the orcs, I remember that he can beat them back.

  “Brom!” I scream for him. He moves with such speed that I lose him in the mist. Arms wrap around me and throw me to the ground, enveloping me in their strength. Nearby there is an explosion. I can see nothing but darkness and my ears ring pai
nfully. I feel as if I’m suffocating and I claw at the body lying over me. My vision tunnels and then there is nothing.

  Chapter 14

  Brom

  “Thank you for coming, Sorya.”

  “Anything for a friend,” the fae says lightly, her voice melodic despite the gravity of the situation. Mischievous eyes sparkle lavender and the air around her crackles with electricity. Sorya, my old lover. She is all fae…unaffected by the world around her. Coming here today was not out of any sense of obligation, or even friendship. More likely it was nothing more than idle curiosity. Whatever the reason, I am grateful for it.

  Sorya shakes her delicate wings. Glittering fairy dust clouds around her, slowly settling to the ground. Eyeing Adelaide from head to toe, Sorya pads barefoot over to my bed. She raises one golden eyebrow in scrutiny.

  “This is the beast that’s caused so much damage?” she asks.

  “It is.”

  “Humans,” Sorya tsks, running pale hands over her flower petal tunic.

  Adelaide moans in her sleep. Though she sustained no wounds in the explosion, I have not been able to wake her. My body took the brunt of the blast, leaving my back covered in blisters and burns. Still, I used the last of my healing potion to brew a tea, pressing it to Adelaide’s lips and forcing her to drink.

  “Let’s see if I can do anything for her…” the fae says, tracing her fingertips gently over Adelaide’s brow. Sorya closes her eyes in concentration and I watch as her lashes flutter. A rare frown mars the fae’s lips and she tilts her head to the side—even the slightest movement from the fairy woman sounds like the tinkling of bells.

  It’s annoying.

  “A sleeping curse,” she confirms. “Do you know what elixirs she used? Or if there was a spell she cast?”

  “From what I gather, she dumped nearly my entire stock of magics into the dinner pot with potatoes and herbs. I don’t think she had a clear plan…the result was an accident.”

  “What a foolish thing to do,” Sorya huffs, looking curiously down at Adelaide.

  “Is there anything you can do to help me wake her?” I ask.

  Sorya rises off her feet and flutters back and forth across the room—the fae version of pacing—while tapping delicate fingers on her small and pointed chin. “I’m sorry, Brom, but this isn’t my kind of magic. If it were a specific potion or spell, I might be able to help, but this…” She waves her hands at Adelaide. “This is a big mess.”

  “I’m forced to agree.” I rub my hands over my face, sighing. “Will she get better?”

  “There’s no telling. She might wake up in a day or so. Of course, she might remain in suspended sleep until true love’s kiss. A good counter spell could do the trick as well.”

  “The elder witch has gone on a journey,” I say. “There’s no hope of a counter spell until she returns.”

  “Did she have a lover?”

  “Who? The elder witch?”

  “No, you brute!” Sorya laughs. It sounds like rain. “The human! A kiss will usually clear these kinds of things right up.”

  “Adelaide is a virgin,” I tell Sorya.

  “That doesn’t mean she can’t kiss, Brom,” the fae reprimands.

  “She had no one like that.”

  “She has you.” Sorya smiles, batting her golden lashes.

  “The girl hates me. My kiss would likely put her on her deathbed.”

  “Then you’ll have to wait and see if she wakes on her own. If she doesn’t, the elder witch will be your last resort…unless of course you decide to take more extreme measures—”

  “I’ll wait.” I’m quick to break off Sorya’s words. I don’t want the fae to speak of dark magic in my home. Especially not when Adelaide has fallen under a sleeping curse.

  “I only mention it for the girl’s sake, Brom. These curses can be frightening, like living in an endless nightmare—”

  Adelaide moans again and clutches at the blankets in her sleep as Sorya and I watch helplessly.

  “Allow me to help you at the very least, old friend,” Sorya offers, nodding toward my back.

  “I’m out of healing potion.”

  She tsks again and pulls a pouch from the belt at her waist. “Make a tea out of this. It isn’t strong magic, but it should take the edge off your pain. You can share it with the girl if you want.”

  “You think Adelaide is in pain?” I question. Sorya presses her lips together, not needing to give an answer. I already know. Adelaide writhes in the bed and her brow glistens with sweat. She hurts.

  “Good luck, Brom. Call on me again if you decide to take a gamble on darker powers.”

  I agree, knowing I would never do such a thing, and walk Sorya to the door. I watch as she disappears down the tunnel, illuminating it with her inner light. After shutting the door behind her, I take in the state of my home.

  Around the fireplace everything is charred and black. The rest of the room looks like an earthquake hit it. My weapons have been knocked from the walls, the footstool Adelaide has been using as her chair is overturned, dishes lie in shattered piles in the kitchen. Then there’s my back, which stings like a beast.

  I don’t know what went wrong. Adelaide opened up to me. I thought our conversation today was a turning point. It had been for me at least.

  After I left her here to start our dinner, I sat alone outside staring at the flowing water and thinking about all Adelaide had shared. I knew what I had to do. Despite my loneliness and the gnawing desire for a companion, despite the very laws of my people, I decided to let Adelaide go.

  Trolls are supposed to be uncompromising. We are all business. When Adelaide stepped onto my bridge, we entered an agreement, whether she knew it or not. But when I saved her from the orcs her debt to me multiplied. She owed her life to me. It was my right to make her my slave. Still…after our talk, I knew there was no way I could keep her here, it would only cause her more misery. And I certainly couldn’t go on treating her like a slave, just as her Aunt Celia had done. I decided on a deal to offer Adelaide. In exchange for a few weeks of labor I would release her and help her find safe passage to Pontheugh.

  I came back into my home then, to tell Adelaide the news, and saw ethereal clouds billowing from the pot over the fire. I knew right away that Adelaide had done something foolish. And it was the look of horror and confusion on the girl’s face that was worst of all. I could tell she had been touched by magic. She looked so lost and frightened…like she did when the orc had her pinned to the ground. I called to her and it seemed the fog cleared for a moment and she saw me. Adelaide screamed for me. She called out to me for help.

  Looking at her now, cast under this terrible spell, with pain etched onto her face, a mixture of pride and guilt wars inside of me. I shouldn’t feel so pleased that she called out to me. Such is the nature of trolls however. We are a protective bunch. It is why I guard this bridge. Perhaps a part of me wants to do the same for Adelaide—protect her and be her champion. It’s madness though.

  Everything about this woman tears me apart inside. I should keep her, force her to honor her debt to me. But I can’t, not when I know how she feels. I have to let her go—to be the hero. Besides, clearly this thing between us isn’t working. Looking down at Adelaide, that fact is apparent. The sight of her like this is like a slap to my face. I was a cocky fool to think I could force this woman to bend to my will.

  I toss Sorya’s pouch onto the table. The brew will have to wait. I’m too tired and in too much pain to do anything tonight. I remove the tools from my belt, but hesitate before pulling free from my loincloth. It feels strange climbing into bed with Adelaide without a stitch on. But my wounds are painful, I reason. And in her current state she would not even know. It isn’t as if I plan to take advantage of her. I growl angrily, feeling foolish about even thinking twice. Still, I walk the room briskly, blowing out all but a few small candles. At least the darkness offers some sliver of modesty, just in case Adelaide wakes suddenly.

  Care
fully, I lower myself down onto the bed, lying on my stomach. Adelaide whimpers beside me.

  “I know how you feel, little one,” I whisper. “My back might as well be on fire.”

  At the sound of my voice, Adelaide fitfully turns toward me.

  Tentatively, I wrap my arm around her and sidle up a little closer until there is no space between us. “Don’t worry,” I gently urge in an effort to calm her mind. “I’m here. All will be well.” I speak the words confidently, but secretly I pray I am not lying.

  Her small human hands find my arm and clutch onto me, tethering her to reality.

  Chapter 15

  Adelaide

  Half of the time I know I’m in a nightmare, but it’s the other half I worry about. That’s when I’m either lost or sucked back into my darkest moments, forced to relive them over and over again with terrifying clarity.

  Sometimes I can hear Brom in the distance. He whispers to me, soothing me…speaking only words of kindness. I can’t tell if that part is real or not. Is he really out there somewhere, trying to guide me back? Or is it all a hellish nightmare?

  How did I even get here? Was it the orcs? Was I captured and this is my prison? Or have I finally gone mad? Thoughts like that bring anxiety and fear, causing me to get caught up in my emotions, making me forget that I’m dreaming. Then the orcs come. Sometimes I’m still in my village, being forced to watch my parents’ home burn to the ground. I can hear the footfalls of a thousand gray and vicious predators advancing on me.

  Other times I’m clawing at the forest floor, trying to crawl away from the orc who wants to rape me. But he presses me down hard and I feel suffocated by the weight of him. My heart races and my limbs won’t respond. Even my screams catch in my throat.

  But the worst is when my nightmares take me back to the day my parents died. I can’t block out the vision of their faces—caked in mud, eyes open, mouths gaping and twisted. The injustice of seeing the two people I loved most in the world reduced to empty husks—all the light and joy stripped from them—gone as easily as one might blow out a candle. And I’m filled with the deep sense of knowing that there’s nothing I could ever do to bring them back.