Troll-y Yours BBW Erotic Curvy Fantasy Romance (The Centaurs)

by Fredricks, Sheri

  Pausing after the last step, Aleksander readjusted his arm to settle comfortably around Ella’s waist and gazed at the Centaurs strolling in the atrium. While he watched the mares chase their overactive foals, he decided life was about being fair and right. It was about developing a personal code of ethics and living up to those standards.

  Bolstered by the revelation, he summoned the courage to carry out his plan and do what he’d come to do. “Let’s go out the back entrance and skip the crowds.”

  “Sounds good.” At Ella’s grateful nod, they followed the dark flagstone walkway.

  Children dodged in and out of their path that led to a seldom used, quiet corridor. Along the walls on either side were drab beige doors marked with plain lettering—Room One, Room Two, etc.—that housed offices, briefing chambers, and the occasional interrogation room.

  “I’ve never been this way before.” Curiosity, not fear, lined her words.

  Gods, she was the perfect female Troll. “We’ll come out at the outdoor auditorium. Have you been there before?”

  A huge smile lit Ella’s face and sent his pulse racing. “I was there for the Festival of Trees last year. I saw Queen Savella for the first time and heard her speech on peace and unity.”

  Aleksander returned her smile. “I wish I would have known you then.” Instead of wasting my time on meaningless females.

  At the end of the corridor an outer door swung open, allowing bright sun to throw long shadows and stab the dim interior.

  Alek slowed to a stop and squinted ahead into the light, able to make out several uniformed guards walking toward them in formation. Their heavy boots and hooves pounded the ground, weapons in hand.

  Just then, a fresh breeze blew in from the open door, gently lifting the long bangs that hung on either side of Ella’s face.

  The group advanced, continuing to march down the corridor. Alek grasped Ella’s hand and moved them out of the way, closer to the chiseled wall.

  Two teams of Centaur warriors dressed in combat gear came abreast and began to pass by. Surrounded within their enclave, an auburn-haired female concentrated on the placement of her measured steps. Her stride forcefully shortened, she shuffled along, cuffed at the wrists and shackled at the ankles.

  Pennelope!

  All at once, a range of emotions blasted outward from Alek’s core: anger, sadness, hurt, and satisfaction. All sentiments coalesced into a toxic melting pot that threw off his emotive balance.

  Pennelope slowly brought her head level, and Alek steeled himself.

  That would be an affirmative—it hurt like bloody hell just to look at her.

  And the fugitive Troll wasn’t doing herself any favors when her panicked eyes landed on him. She cried out, “Alek! You have to do something. Don’t let them lock me up. You have to help me.”

  The guard in true form behind her gave a not so gentle nudge to keep moving when her footsteps faltered.

  “Alek, save me.” With the mobility of her legs inhibited by a short length of connecting chain, Pennelope had no choice but to move with the flow of her marching guards. She went to raise her hands in a plea, but hit the end of her chain.

  He kept his mouth shut and slowly shook his head, knowing as she did, where they were taking her.

  To the bottom grotto.

  “Dammit Alek, help me! At least tell Nubbs where I am. Tell him to get me out of here.”

  Kempor Aleksander, head guard of the Centaur kingdom, fixed his eyes on the painful past and watched her be taken away. Where once he thought himself in love, and damned the circumstances which kept them apart, he realized the mythic gods knew better.

  Pennelope let him think she was dead and gone, let him mourn her—had even deceived him by marrying another and not divulged the information when last they met.

  Still difficult to remember how wickedly she’d betrayed him. Much less look at her.

  Ella’s hand tightened and drew his attention back to her. Her wide green eyes were filled with questions. “That’s Pennelope, the Troll healer. What did she do?”

  “I don’t know yet.” And that was the truth. “But what I do know is that she’s somehow tied to this last uprising. The one that nearly got you killed.” The thought of how he’d nearly lost Ella not once, but twice, threatened to stop his heart all over again.

  The less Ella knew about the political dregs of kingdom business, the safer she would be. It was his job to worry about the reign of Savella, not his little Troll’s.

  “My mother just called on Pennelope not long ago…” her eyes followed the dejected bobbing red-head, and her voice drifted off.

  Last in the procession, looking tired and haggard, Ella’s brother Eli brought up the rear. Shoulders slumped, big feet dragging, clothes dirty and torn—the undercover Troll aged since Alek had last seen him.

  For having only served a short term of duty, Eli had brought in the big fish—and wouldn’t that look good on a resume? Maybe the chiseled lines in his face were due to lack of sleep. That would explain the dark circles under his eyes. Either that… or Pennelope had punched the kid’s lights out.

  “Eli? What are you doing here?” Ella asked, astonished to see him.

  Eli mustered a brief smile in his sister’s direction and a head nod for Alek. “Kempor Aleksander.”

  Alek surprised both himself and Eli by stepping forward and offering his hand. It’d been a long time coming, and maybe longer by the way the Troll stared at his outstretched palm.

  In the end, Eli grasped his arm firmly in traditional Centaur fashion, each holding on to acknowledge a wordless truce; if not for the Centaur kingdom, then for Ella.

  *~*~*

  If she hadn’t witnessed the impossible happening, Ella would’ve never believed it took place. In many ways, she wanted to warn Al not to trust her brother, to guard his back and be cynical of whatever Eli said.

  But something was going on between the two males. Something that spoke at a deeper level she couldn’t understand, and wasn’t made privy to.

  Eli broke his connection from Al and took a step back, moving to stand toe to toe with her. “Can I ask you something?”

  Pan’s flute. Now what? Wary, she nodded. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  “For what?” Call me a bitch, but I want him to say it.

  Eli didn’t let her down. “For being a self-centered, emotionally repugnant, asshole of a brother.” He dipped his gaze to his muddy boots, then met her eyes again. “I can’t read auras like you, but I don’t need Troll abilities to know how hurt you’ve been over the years. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Ella’s heart thumped behind her ribs so loudly, she nearly glanced down along the hall to see whether a marching band paraded by. Suddenly, tears welled at the words she thought she’d never hear. All she ever wanted was for her family to love her.

  Was it too much to ask?

  Eli would be a welcomed start.

  Through her tears, Ella nodded. She took a deep breath, knowing mercy had to begin somewhere. “You’re forgiven, little brother.”

  One day, she hoped she could feel the words she’d just spoken, feel the well of forgiveness in the depth of her heart.

  Alek squeezed her hand, then let go so she could hug her brother.

  Eli hugged her back, but when she flinched from the arm directly over her injury, he pulled away.

  “It’s okay,” she reassured. “My back is still healing.”

  “I heard you were injured.” His eyes flicked to Al for a moment. “And everything’s going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” Ella wrapped her arm around Al’s trim waist and snuggled into his warm, quiet strength. Gazing into her Centaur lover’s dark chocolate eyes, she answered Eli. “Everything is going to be just fine.”

  If the mythic gods allowed it, she hoped her dream would come true.

  “I’m relieved you’re all right.” Eli dropped an unexpected kiss on her cheek. “Take good c
are of my sister, Kempor Aleksander.”

  “Expect no less, kid.”

  Renewed with an energetic spring in his steps, her brother jogged to catch up with the guards and their single female prisoner before they passed through an unmarked door.

  The door was beige like all the rest, but Ella hadn’t noticed it until now. “What’s Eli doing here? Why is he with your soldiers?”

  Confusion spun her head, or maybe it was from bouncing her gaze between her brother and Al, looking for answers. She had more questions to ask, and probably more after that.

  Al’s blunt fingers stroked the hair curling about her face and tucked a lock behind an ear.

  She felt so damned anxious—which is not how she wanted to feel at the moment.

  “Your brother works for the Centaur Crown. He’s not military, so I can’t answer what his job is. You’ll have to ask Eli yourself.”

  Ella nodded. So, this was the job her parents were so proud of. She doubted they knew what he did for a living, which selfishly made her feel a tad better. It also helped to mend the rift between Eli and her. If she wanted to understand her brother better, she needed to talk to him. A safe, neutral subject like his work seemed the best way to start.

  At the plain door behind Al’s shoulder, a movement caught her eye. She pointed with a finger. “What’s through that door?”

  “It’s where we keep the prisoners awaiting trial.”

  “And that’s where Pennelope is?”

  Al nodded, then motioned with a tilt of his head. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He produced a key from his pants pocket, slid it in the lock and turned. The metal door opened with a slight grind. Al slipped a protective arm around her waist and walked them in.

  The interior space was large, cavernous really. Along the walls on each side, rooms were carved out of solid granite and iron bars fitted across the fronts.

  Pennelope stood facing one of the cells, arguing with the guards and refusing to walk in.

  A large, blond-haired mountain of a Centaur stepped forward and picked her up like a pile of dirty laundry. He deposited her, shackles and all, into her new home.

  “Hey, when do I get out of here? What’s going to happen to me?” Deeper inside the grotto, a male banged the bars, causing them to rattle loudly in the abysmal cave. The racket made like a rubber ball and bounced off the walls until it eventually faded away.

  Ella leaned forward to peek around Al’s sizeable form and sucked in her breath. “Al, look! There’s the human hunter.”

  “Yup. Not looking so dangerous now, is he?”

  Locked up, the human wasn’t scary at all. Next to the colossal male Centaurs, he seemed smaller, less intimidating.

  “Will he have a trial?” she asked.

  Al shrugged. “Incarcerating a human set a precedent. Savella is deciding the best course of action to take.”

  “You can’t keep me here forever! I’ve got people who’ll come looking for me.”

  One of the guards apparently had enough, because he shoved the rounded end of his pike through the bars and punched the man in his belly. Instead of grabbing the wooden pole like a soldier would have done, the human folded in on himself. He clutched his stomach with both arms and moved to the back of his cell.

  At least he was quiet after that.

  “Come to watch the cell door close behind the Troll bitch?” Mr. Nubbs had come in and stood observing behind them.

  Looking shocked, Ella glanced his way.

  “Sorry,” he muttered low.

  Al regarded Mr. Nubbs, a grave look in his eye. “This must be hard on you. I’m sorry.”

  “Not at all. It’s no harder than it must be for you.”

  A look of understanding passed between the males. Men and their secrets. She could only speculate what all that was about. Maybe one day Al would tell her.

  As if she were a spectator at a Wild West hanging, Ella watched the show. The guard who carried Pennelope into her cell stepped backward, never dropping her from his sights. The jail cell door swung and shut with a resounding bang. A medieval padlock latched her in.

  On the freedom side of the bars, the three of them watched Pennelope retreat to a corner. Defeated, she slumped to the rock floor of her new home.

  Unable to dissolve to freedom. A Troll’s nightmare.

  With a sigh, Al threaded his fingers through Ella’s. “Let’s go.”

  Out in the hallway with the grotto on the other side of the door, she smoothed out her skirt and breathed a sigh of relief. Sounds of happy children drifted from the atrium, their squeals of delight pleasant to hear after the doom and gloom of prison.

  “You off then?” Mr. Nubbs asked as she and Al continued on to their original destination which would take them somewhere outside.

  Her handsome Centaur was being very mysterious by not telling her where they were going.

  Ella loved every minute of it. It didn’t matter to her where they went—be it two steps or two miles from the palace. All she cared about was the way his eyes heated when he looked at her, and his seriousness to get her there.

  Theirs may have started off with attraction and a physical relationship, but for her it went beyond the carnal stuff.

  She was in heartbreak zone—and there was no turning back.

  Al clapped Mr. Nubbs on the shoulder and laughed, their camaraderie evident. “Don’t wait up for me, dad.”

  “Fu—uh—have a nice time.” Mr. Nubbs choked on his retort as he struggled to keep it clean.

  The awkward response from the very serious Nubbs, only made Al laugh again.

  Mr. Nubbs turned on his stiff patent leather heel and walked toward the atrium.

  Ella gazed after the man’s retreating back. “Are he and Queen Savella an item?”

  The pair certainly seemed cozy enough when they surprised her and Al a few weeks back.

  Al pushed open the outer door and flooded them with warm sunlight. “I don’t think so. They seem an unlikely pair.”

  Ella didn’t think chemistry heeded if connections were likely or not. When the L-bomb fell on you, it’s not like you had a choice. Just look at her and Al. Well…her anyway. Maybe not for Al.

  Together, they stepped out into the last of the autumn warmth.

  “All right, Captain Chimpy-nuts. Where to now?” She didn’t know where they were headed, but a relaxing walk in the gorgeous forest on a lovely autumn day is exactly what she needed to lift her spirits after the sights and smells of the lower dungeon.

  “Captain what?”

  Ella giggled in return and lifted her gaze to his.

  “I’ll have you know I’m a highly respected, much decorated officer in—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go.”

  Aleksander leaned in, his gold chain swinging forward. His soft lips nibbled hers. “I think you’ll like where we’re going.”

  Ella deepened their kiss and wrapped her arms around his waist. She slid her hips against the hardening length of him. If you’re there, I’ll always be deliriously happy.

  Thirty-Four

  Al held back giant fern fronds while Ella shoved at the Wood Nymph branches that slapped her ass as she passed. He seemed eager to get where he was going, yet wouldn’t tell her their destination. Following in his wake on the single-file trail wasn’t a burden; the view in front pulled her along like the river’s current.

  To reach the clearing ahead, she lifted her booted foot to rest atop the tree root, rather than over. Nasty Nymph males. They’d try anything to get between a female’s legs.

  Then, Al might get possessively pissed and call him out, the warriors would probably get into a fight. The saying goes, if you fight one Wood Nymph, you fought the whole root system, and—yeah. She didn’t need to go there.

  Tender shoots of green clover spread out as a spongy carpet beneath her feet while she moved into the clearing and stood beside Al.

  In front of them, rising to the clear blue sky, stood a granite ro
ck wall she recalled all too well. An overflow of flashbacks painted the scenes in her mind. Vivid memories imprinted on her heart: her playing nurse to Aleksander’s gunshot wound, a steamy shower that had nothing to do with water temperature, the miles of smooth skin over hard muscular ridges, and soft bed linens that covered a thick floorbed.

  And sex. Lots of it.

  Ella flicked her gaze from the bracing granite to watch a sycamore leaf tumble in midair. The pointed spires turned in graceful rotation.

  The orange leaf of fall drifted through the air and landed on Al’s shoulder.

  For some reason, this simple act of nature made her smile—and that’s when she knew. As sure as the pulse that thrummed in her mythological veins, Ella knew.

  Life would be meaningless without her Centaur.

  “Go ahead, open the door,” Aleksander prompted, his voice rough.

  She got the impression he, too, was revisiting their time spent at the cave house after their escape from the hunter.

  Hell, his iridescent red and orange aura blazed brighter than a Boronda sunset. It all but shouted his increase in sexual energy and reflected his inner facet.

  Ella didn’t need much prodding to turn back the clock and put herself in the sensual mood all over again. She fixed her eyes to the crack in the rock, the imperceptible fracture that ran down from the top, just off center. When she stepped forward, she moistened her dry lips and wondered if they could recapture the past…then hold on to it for a lifetime.

  Will I be enough for Kempor Aleksander?

  Al seemed to reach with his senses and search the surrounding area.

  Ella ran her fingers along the crack and felt for a protruding bump, different in size and shape from the rest. Finding such, she was surprised at the ease in which the mechanism gave in to her finger pressure.

  Silent and smooth, the rock door broke away from the boulder’s face and popped outward on metal hinges.

  Excitement grew inside of her, and when she looked over at Al and saw the heat in his eyes, it bubbled right over and melted her toes.

  Alek used his forefinger to tap the rough stone. “Open the door, Ella.”