Ransomed to the World

by Stacey Brutger

  He didn’t smile, didn’t joke, his usual easy charm gone.

  All that was left was just him as he bared himself to her.

  Her breath shuddered out of her, and she pressed her forehead against his chest and sagged in relief. Then she pulled back and nodded. “Okay. Good.”

  She cleared her throat, pursing her lips, and gave him an assessing look. “I can wait for you for however long you need, just don’t pull away from me. You will give me a kiss every morning and every evening.” She hesitated, suddenly uncertain. “Or if that’s too much, you will hold my hand.”

  She turned over her arm, revealing the tattoo etched into her skin, and ran her thumb over the top. “And if you ever doubt how I feel, all you have to do is check our connection.”

  A moment later, a wave of love swept through her, so strong that her throat tightened. Logan tipped up her face and pressed his forehead against hers. “Never doubt my love. I will never leave you. You are not your uncle. You didn’t hurt me. You would never hurt me. My heart knows the truth, but my mind might take a bit longer.”

  “I can wait.” Annora resisted the urge to melt against him. “I can wait forever if you need it.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” A huff of laughter escaped him, and he gave her a cheeky grin. “I just want things to be perfect between us. I’ve been a fuckup my whole life, and I want there to be more than that between us. You’re different from the women of my past. You matter, so I want to go slowly and do everything properly. I want to make sure that when we move our relationship to the next stage, the ghosts of our pasts are gone. I want—” He shook his head. “I need your memories of us to be happy.”

  “You silly man.” Annora cupped his face in her hands. “Just being with you makes me happy.”

  She then stepped back and held out her hand, waiting for him to link their fingers together. The thick tension that had gathered around him the past few weeks fell away, leaving behind the mischievous kitsune who had captured her heart.

  “Since neither of us are going anywhere, what do you say we find some trolls and kick their asses?”

  His answering smile revealed very sharp, very pointy teeth, vengeance sharpening his expression. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was early afternoon when they encountered the first signs of trolls…when a troop of five troll soldiers began to follow them.

  Annora felt like they were being herded.

  To ensure they would arrive?

  Or make sure that they didn’t see something they shouldn’t?

  Either way, after the attack on Xander, she didn’t trust them an inch.

  Loulou and Willa remained behind with the wolves, so only she and the guys were going to meet with the trolls. The wolves were ordered to follow at a distance and keep an eye out for more traps. If they ran into trouble, they were supposed to send up a signal.

  What signal, she didn’t know. Logan just smirked and said that she wouldn’t be able to miss it.

  She wanted to roll her eyes at his secrets, but she was happy to have him back to his usual impish self to put up much of a fuss. Just to be sure, she ordered Prem to stay back with the wolves, and if they were attacked, he was to inform her immediately.

  Loulou had crossed her arms and tapped her foot, looking ready to protest, when Prem darted in front of her, leaned back on his haunches, and put his front paws together to beg.

  Loulou scooped him up in her arms, tickled him under the chin, then turned her glare on Annora, accusing her of putting him up to it.

  Despite her denials, Annora didn’t think the bunny believed her. She pouted for a bit until Prem rolled onto his back and presented his belly for rubs. Loulou melted, grumbling under her breath as she stomped off.

  In that instant, Annora would swear that Prem looked up at her and winked.

  Pushing thoughts of the little devil away, she followed the guys as they continued on their way. If it wasn’t for the threat hanging over their heads, it would’ve been almost nice to be able to spend time alone with the men. They didn’t chat, but their nearness was enough to make her happy.

  And if everything went well, she would be able to claim Mason as one of them by the end of the day. Excitement zipped through her at the thought. Oh, he was hers either way, but underneath his big, scary exterior, Mason was worried he would lose her.

  If this was what he needed to take away that doubt, she would do it.

  Not that she knew what claiming him entailed.

  The ass has been suspiciously quiet about that from the start.

  Mason became progressively grimmer with every step, his expressive hair slicked back, his muscles bulking up until he towered over everyone. He didn’t do it on purpose, but it was more like his protective instincts had come to the fore, forcing him into his troll form.

  Annora caught glimpses of the others through the trees.

  His family…if you could call them that.

  They were…not what she was expecting. Sure, the sheer number of them was intimidating, but they didn’t look like Mason at all.

  There was nothing remotely human-looking about them.

  Their heads were solid blocks, their foreheads punched outward, their eyes sunk into their skull. Their teeth—if you could even call their tusks teeth—were massive, like wild hogs. Their noses were almost comically wide, their lips so thick, they resembled giant worms, while their eyebrows could practically crawl off their faces.

  A few of them had horns, but they were twisted and gnarled compared to Mason’s crown of horns. Instead of normal clothing, they wore furs and loincloths, showing off the dark tattoos etched on their bodies that signaled their standing in their tribe. The only similarities between them and Mason were their colorful hair and bright, nearly glowing eyes.

  Where Mason was cute and cuddly, these men were not.

  They were like giant tree trunks with arms and legs.

  They could smash her with their fists, which could easily be mistaken for thirty-pound sledgehammers.

  The amazing part was she couldn’t even hear them move through the trees. Although if she concentrated, she could feel the earth tremble under her feet.

  They were that massive.

  When they neared the troll village, the path became clearer, signs of habitation more marked. Voices were nothing more than whispers on the air, and the guys began to close ranks around her.

  Mason took the lead, as if he could stop anything that would come at them.

  She feared it was much too late for that.

  As the trees thinned out, the voices became words, and the first hint of the village came into view.

  It…wasn’t what she was expecting.

  She wasn’t sure what she’d been imagining.

  Maybe mud huts or some shit.

  Not a fucking cave in the mountain that looked like a skull ready to grab and swallow anyone who got too close. A couple of campfires were burning, large stone rings surrounding the flames, the rich smell of food floating on the air.

  Instead of using logs for seating, the close to thirty trolls had positioned boulders around the clearing, crushed down to a size to fit their larger frame. They didn’t have the normal human skin tones, but different shades of gray and green to match their surroundings.

  She spotted maybe one or two trolls on the fringes of the group who were half-breeds like Mason, but only noticed them because they were smaller than the rest. They remained fully in their troll form, unlike Mason, who could pass for human if no one looked too closely.

  It brought home to her how much they were not human.

  Then she wanted to roll her eyes at herself.

  Fuck…no one in the village was even remotely human.

  Not even her.

  One woman stood out from the rest, her garb more elaborate, her hair brighter, her horns nearly like a crown, and Annora realized they must be a matriarchal society.

  And that woman was the queen bitch.<
br />
  There wasn’t much difference between the women and the men, both heavily muscular and built like tanks. The women had a slightly sleeker form, their breasts scarcely noticeable, their waists barely slimmer than their male counterparts’. Only a few were more voluptuous. Their faces were only a smidge more feminine, their tusks smaller, but something about the females warned her that they were more vicious.

  When Mason went to kneel, the woman smirked.

  Annora grabbed him by the arm, but he didn’t stop. Seeing him bent low to the tyrant twisted something hateful and low in her stomach.

  Mason was hers.

  He bowed to no one.

  Annora glowered at the people who smirked and gathered around to watch Mason on his knees. She marched forward, ignoring when her men growled in protest, but they were quickly surrounded, unable to follow.

  “So you’re the whore who thinks to claim one of my subjects.” The woman smiled, each of her square teeth at least the size of Annora’s thumbnail. She was slouched on a throne created of stones and wood. Her hair was almost a golden yellow, except it looked like straw. Her skin was tinged a greenish-grey color that reminded Annora of snot.

  All Annora’s rage at the way they treated Mason surged to the surface. The image of seeing Xander beaten, then tossed over the side of the cliff like he was trash sent her fury burning higher. Darkness didn’t just explode out of her—it enveloped the world.

  The sky turned overcast as the two worlds merged, the trees fading as the dark particles encased them. The trolls whirled, weapons raised as they muttered among themselves and searched for the enemy. Some of their hair rose on end like a cat’s, while others dropped as they backed away from the encroaching darkness.

  A scan showed barely half of the people appeared normal.

  The other half…not so much.

  Tar tinged their eyes completely black, leaving not even a speck of white behind. It streaked down their faces from their eyes and mouth like some grisly Halloween mask to frighten young kids. Their skin was leached of color, a pasty gray, their lips charred black.

  It was something that only happened to people who had done something so evil that it stained their soul. Annora wasn’t the least bit surprised to see so many were affected.

  She focused on the two women who attacked them earlier, pleased when ribbons of smoke began to twist up their legs, grafting to them like a fungus and beginning to feed. The younger of their attackers panicked, giving a pained squeal, and tried to brush it off, which only succeeded in spreading the mold.

  The older one bared her teeth, as if she could beat death. She staggered toward Annora even as her body shriveled rapidly, the mold spreading at an alarming rate.

  The queen sprang to her feet as the black fog streaked up her throne, her good cheer gone. Then she whirled, her breath practically billowing around her like a bull ready to charge. “Stop this!”

  Annora gave a nasty smile. “Fuck you.”

  The queen yanked a spear away from one of her warriors and launched it through the air. The wood gave a sharp whistle as it flew toward Annora.

  And disintegrated in a cloud of tiny grains of sand that dropped harmlessly to the ground before it even reached her. The troll stumbled back, her eyes wide, the first hint of fear darkening her face as she saw the future of her kingdom lying in ashes.

  Annora allowed the darkness to weave playfully between her fingers, tasting its enjoyment at being let out to play. “You’re welcome to try again. Even if you manage to kill me, I have a nasty habit of not staying dead. If you manage to somehow survive, I’ll come back to finish this once and for all.”

  Annora didn’t know if she really would be able to come back from the afterworld anymore if she died, not since so many things had changed, but she vowed to become a reaper if that was her only way to return to take her vengeance.

  She would allow no one to harm her mates.

  “Annora!” Mason stepped in front of her, cupping her face until she saw only him.

  She frowned, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Mas—”

  “You have to stop.” He tucked her close to his body, as if to protect her from the darkness surrounding them. “You’re killing them.”

  “They deserve it for what they did to you.” She stared up at him, her mind clouded by the need for vengeance. “They—”

  “Yeah, Flora is a bitch, but not all of them are evil,” Mason whispered to her.

  Part of her anger eased at his nearness, the need to tear apart the world fading. As she gazed up at him, she expected to see horror.

  But all she saw was love and concern for her welfare.

  “Fine.” She blew out a breath, then sighed. “I’ll spare them for you.”

  She pressed her face against his chest, then closed her eyes and pulled back the darkness. It fucking hurt! It peeled back from the real world reluctantly, the fog creeping along the ground toward her like some poorly made scary movie. It seeped into her skin and flowed into her veins like hundred-proof liquor.

  It was the feel of sun on her face that made her finally open her eyes and ease away from Mason’s arms.

  The rest of the guys surrounded them, weapons drawn, but none of the trolls dared approach them.

  That’s when she got a close look at the village…or what was left of it.

  The place had been destroyed, aging a hundred years in the space of five minutes. Some trees had gone wild, the vegetation almost foreign, while others had withered and died. The buildings were mostly standing…one looked like the boards shrank two sizes, the wood crumbling like sawdust, while another had grown roots into the ground, the whole thing coming alive with flowers and vines.

  The whole village was the same. Some places were untouched, others were completely destroyed.

  The trolls were gathered in clumps, staring at her like she was the boogeyman.

  Except for the queen.

  She studied Annora with speculation in her bright yellow eyes and a huge grin on her face, like Annora hadn’t just tried to murder her entire tribe. “Now I see why the witches are so insistent on taking you alive.”

  “What?” Camden tightened his grip on his weapons, his eyes darting around the clearing. The scent of exotic flowers filled the air, reminding her of the taste of his toxin. His skin rippled, a pattern emerging, his armor slotting together as he prepared for war.

  “Oh, they wouldn’t dare set foot in my kingdom.” The queen snorted and waved him off. She glanced at her throne, which was just a small pile of rubble and sand, distaste twisting her meaty lips.

  Things suddenly clicked. “That’s why you demanded we come here for a claiming ceremony. It was just a ruse to capture me.”

  The queen turned, giving her an assessing glance, her expression shrewd. “It was—until I saw you in action.”

  She waved them toward the fire and took her seat on one of the giant boulders that remained unaffected by the destruction. People scattered out of the way, and Annora reluctantly followed. Mason grabbed hold of her arm, and she saw the warning in his eyes—the queen didn’t earn her spot by strength alone, but a combination of ruthlessness and cunning.

  Giving him a nod of understanding, she took her seat opposite.

  None of the guys followed, standing protectively behind her to guard her back, trusting her to do what needed to be done.

  Whatever the fuck that was.

  A few of the trolls remained on guard. A couple of them shot her looks of pure hatred, mostly Flora and her companion, but the rest of them gave her nods of respect. The kids seemed more impressed with her than afraid, giving her bright smiles and waving—like she was a celebrity or some shit—and her mind boggled at that.

  Trolls respect strength above all else.

  Mason’s voice echoed in her head, the sexy rumble sounding way more intimate in her thoughts, and it was all she could do not to jump at the unexpectedness.

  It also explained why the queen invited her to sit. “You want som
ething.”

  The queen threw back her head and gave a belly laugh that echoed off the mountaintop, slapping her knee in genuine amusement. “I like you, girl. You don’t bullshit around, not like them others.”

  But Annora remembered what the queen looked like when she opened up the afterworld. While her eyes were pure black, the tar hadn’t spread beyond that…like she knew what was right and wrong but did what she needed to do to survive.

  Most of the time anyway.

  Annora couldn’t make herself smile at the imposing figure across from her, not when the woman held Mason’s fate in her hands. She was used to Mason and his troll, so seeing a full-blooded troll wasn’t disconcerting. The troll queen didn’t pretend to be anything other than what she was, warts and all. Fuck if the woman’s thighs weren’t bigger around than Annora. Shit—if she wanted, the queen could reach over and palm her head like a basketball.

  Even with the fire between them, there was a smell to her…a combination of dirt, sweat, and…spoiled meat?

  Then Annora looked up at the queen and understanding hit.

  It was all an act.

  A show that made them look like heathens and brutes.

  It made Annora wary. “What do you want?”

  The queen’s smile vanished, and she turned her head to the side, her hair twisting about her face. “You’re a smart one. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Did you order your soldiers this morning to kill my men?” It was the only thing that mattered to Annora.

  The queen sighed and gave up pretenses. “I told them to bring you back, that the men weren’t important.”

  When the flames in the fire flared between them, the woman gave a bark of laughter and held up her hand. “Not many outside our own species would dare claim a troll as a mate. You can’t blame me for being suspicious.”

  Annora exhaled loudly and the fire calmed, as if they were connected. When she glanced closer, she noticed dark particles had infested the logs like ants, immune to the fire blazing around them.

  Her eyes snapped back up, but the queen had seen those dark particles too.

  Well, shit.

  “I’m Queen Nerilla.” She used a stick to shift the logs in the fire, but nothing that she did dislodged the tiny particles.