Because damned if the man didn’t have plenty of reasons to brag.
She dressed, grumbling to herself at how unsteady her legs were. She needed to work on her muscles if she wanted to keep up with him, then practically trembled at what the thought of keeping up with him would entail.
As they headed topside, despite having to fight for their lives in the cave, she was sad to be leaving the safe haven of Mason’s arms. She feared it’d be a long time before she found that peace again.
Chapter Eleven
“She’s still alive.” Logan glared up at the troll queen, who blocked him from going after Annora. “You have to let us search for her.”
They’d been arguing for the past ten minutes. The allotted twenty minutes for the test had come and gone, and neither Mason nor Annora had returned.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. The underground cities are reserved for the hunt.” Nerilla crossed her massive arms. “If either of them is alive, they’ll return when they can. It’s a maze down there, and if you try to search for them, chances are you’ll never return. You’re welcome to stay until morning, but then you must leave.”
Before Logan could launch himself at the bitch, Xander grabbed his arm and wrestled him back. Camden took over the argument, which was probably for the best.
“Walk it off.” Xander watched Logan carefully, then his eyes flickered toward the sky.
Logan looked up—and did a double take.
It was snowing.
Big flakes came down hard and fast, swirling around them until the outside world was obscured. Temperatures dropped to the point where a gust of icy fog escaped him with each ragged breath. He scrubbed his hand down his face, his chest heaving with the urgent need to find Annora.
She was in trouble.
“Logan,” Xander snapped, tension holding him rigid. “You need to focus.”
Xander’s duster fluttered behind him from the wind…or maybe he was as unnerved about Annora’s absence as him. Whether he admitted it or not, Xander didn’t like being away from her either. Memories of the last time they were separated were still seared into his memories, and his gut churned with dread. “We can’t leave her down there. She’s in danger.”
“I know,” Xander grunted, his face hard.
Everything inside Logan stilled at Xander’s vicious tone, and the anxiety threatening to cut off his air finally eased enough for him to push past the panic. “You have a plan.”
It wasn’t a question, because no other answer was acceptable.
Xander gave a short nod, a savage smile twisting his lips. “We won’t leave without her.”
Although Annora was anxious to return to the guys, she followed Mason through the bazaar.
He practically dragged her behind him in his excitement, heading toward a small stall in the back corner. Trolls gave them startled looks, but most of them seemed more amused than disapproving now they’d both emerged from the tunnels relatively unscathed.
Annora wasn’t sure she trusted the drastic change.
Mason must have sensed her caution and shot her a huge grin over his shoulder. “Trolls admire strength and cunning more than anything. They won’t bother us anymore, not when you managed to defeat a troll in battle. You’re one of the tribe now.”
As they came to a stop in front of the last stand, Annora decided she wasn’t sure it was such a good thing to be considered one of them, not after the way they treated Mason for years, just for being a half-breed.
Flora had tormented him relentlessly, and she could only hope that with that bitch gone, things would change. The atmosphere already seemed lighter, trolls slapping Mason on the back and heaping him with congratulations.
Mason surveyed the wares on the table, his demeanor changing from joyous to downright serious. To her surprise, he passed over the rings, his hand hovering over a short bracer, a combination of black and silver metal swirled together in an intricate design.
It looked dainty and elegant in his large hands.
An old troll limped out from behind a blanket hanging from a string. Her hair was a solid gray, frizzy with age and drooping. Her skin was a faded green so pale, it barely had any color. Wrinkles lined her body, her skin sagging. Despite her stature, she looked fragile.
Her sharp eyes surveyed Mason, she harrumphed, and then her pale green eyes landed on Annora before narrowing. “He must love you very much.”
Ignoring the way Mason stilled beside her, Annora studied the old crone. “What do you mean?”
“To win the heart of a troll is rare. Trolls often show their prowess by displaying the stone in rings, necklaces, and such. The more the elaborate and expensive the jewelry, the more highly he values you.”
Annora flushed under the woman’s scrutiny and glanced over to see Mason seriously inspecting the different pieces, the short bracer still in one hand, and her heart melted at the dedication and care he invested in selecting just the right piece for her.
When he straightened to his full height, he gave a satisfied nod. He turned toward her and held out his hand. “If you give me the stone, I’ll have it placed in the setting.”
He didn’t demand the stone, still giving her a choice to back out, and she dug it out of her pocket. She ran her thumb over the opal, the colors still swirling like liquid fire inside the black stone, and she couldn’t help wonder why he didn’t tell her sooner. “They call it a heart stone?”
“Only after it has been won.” A proud smile quirked up one corner of his lips. “If the match is denied, the magic in the stone will dull until another challenge is issued, and it will continue until the right match is found. The brighter the stone, the stronger the connection is between the pair.”
Annora glanced down to see the gem shimmering brightly in her palm, and tears burned her eyes.
It was physical proof of his love.
She blinked quickly to banish the tears, then carefully placed the stone in his waiting hand, her chest aching with such vast emotions, she didn’t know what to do with them. He gave her a brilliant smile, then walked toward the end of the table to where a pile of thin metal strips waited. He carefully picked through the strands, selecting the perfect ones. Using his fingers, he began to twist and spin each one around the stone and thread it through the bracer to secure it.
“It’s a labor of love.”
Annora tore her eyes away from Mason and gave the crone a jerky nod.
The old troll gasped. Annora followed her gaze and saw the skeleton bowl in her hand had shifted. The remains of Mason’s shirt that she’d used to keep the stones covered had slipped, revealing the gems.
The crone froze, her shattered expression wrenching at Annora’s heart.
Annora carefully set down the bowl and pulled aside the ragged edges of the shirt. She thought maybe one of the stones had belonged to the old troll or perhaps a loved one. She glanced through the colorful stones, waiting for one to speak to her, but it was a charcoal rock near the bottom that gave a sorrowful, almost discordant hum.
She picked it up, then offered it to the old woman. “I believe this is yours.”
The troll’s head snapped up, and she gaped at Annora in shock, pain and wonder twisting in her eyes. Without saying anything, she reached out and carefully accepted the stone, then clutched it to her chest.
Annora looked away from the jagged emotions that crumpled the crone’s face, and covered the rest of the stones carefully, giving the old troll time to recover.
“Why would you return this to me?” The crone’s voice was sharp, the harsh tone drawing a crowd from those nearby.
Annora frowned, not sure she understood. She glanced at Mason and saw him nod at her before going back to his task. “Because it belongs to you?”
She couldn’t keep the question out of her statement.
“My son.” Instead of being pleased, she inhaled sharply and then looked down her nose at the bowl. “And the remaining stones?”
Annora shrugged one should
er, shifting uncomfortably when more trolls began to gather. “They’ll be returned to the queen, who I assume will return them to the rightful owners.”
“You would give up that power.” The crone glared at her, rage saturating the air.
Only then did Annora understand. “It’s not my power.” It was as simple as that, but no one seemed convinced. “I have no intention of staying. We’re on the run because I have too much power already. I don’t need to borrow any more trouble. If Mason says trolls are worth a second chance, then I’ll give them a chance…but only because it’s what he wants.”
Mason came to stand behind her, his warmth and the smell of fresh pine soothing her. His big, warm palm came to rest on her shoulder.
Ignoring everyone else, he turned toward the crone and lifted the bracer he created. “How much do I owe you?”
The troll dragged her attention away from Annora, then bowed her head. “Take it with my blessing.”
Without saying more, she shuffled back behind her screen, dismissing them.
Annora gaped after the troll, then turned to face Mason. He looked like he’d been kneed in the balls. Concern trickled through her. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”
Mason turned toward her almost mechanically, then seemed to come to himself when he gazed down at her. “She used to be the matchmaker of the tribe. It’s rare for her to give her blessings anymore. It’s considered a great honor.”
He held out the bracer he’d created. The metal was black except where some of the tree branches were carved into it, while others were twisted around the stone to secure it in place.
Annora didn’t hesitate and held out her arm.
He clasped it over her arm, then slowly crushed the ends of the metal together, leaving only a small gap where her tattoo remained visible. They looked so natural together, she’d swear that they were designed specifically for her, a matching pair just waiting for her to show up.
She touched her mark and immediately felt the turmoil from the rest of the team.
Trouble was brewing.
“We need to go.” Annora dashed for the entrance. Mason paused and snatched up the bowl of gems, then followed her a step behind.
She burst out of the bazaar at a dead run…and right into chaos. She paused at the edge of the cave to see the trolls and wolves were gathered around Edgar and Xander. Willa and Loulou, who had Prem on her shoulder, were cheering. Both were yelling and trash-talking with the best of them as the two men faced off against an enormous troll—the biggest one she’d ever seen.
He was a burnt orange, and damned if he wasn’t well over eight feet tall. His emerald green hair was in a mohawk that bristled with aggression, and he was covered with scars. Menace oozed from him as he battled the two men.
Xander and Edgar paired off against the big ape, and almost faster than she could track, they attacked. Xander practically danced on air, while Edgar faded until he was a ghost of himself. They worked in tandem like they’d been training all their lives. While the beast tried to fend off Xander, Edgar attacked, the combination bringing the troll to his knees.
She walked blindly forward, awed by the sight, and ran smack into Logan. Before she could rebound off him, he grabbed her close, then buried his face in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him, worry clenching her gut at the way he trembled. She spied Camden looking at her over Logan’s shoulder.
He blew out a heavy breath, the tension oozing out of him, and gave her a small smile. “We thought you might need a rescue, but we were forbidden to go after you.”
“So the others—”
“A distraction.” He rubbed the back of his neck a bit bashfully. “Living with a troll, you learn that there’s nothing they love more than a challenge.” He shot a concerned look at Logan, then pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll go break it up.”
“I’ll help.” Mason kissed the top of her head and joined Camden as they walked back toward the makeshift fighting ring.
“Logan?” She rubbed his back, then frowned when he stiffened in her arms. “Are you okay?”
He leaned back and cupped her face, giving her a heart-melting, sweet kiss. She could do nothing but hold on to him when her knees went weak. When he pulled back, she groaned in protest, and he chuckled. It was all she could do not to smack him for teasing her…or reclaim his lips for another kiss.
“I was worried about you.” He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes searching hers. When she leaned forward to cuddle up with him, he pulled back. “We have company.”
Annora jerked back, so caught up with him, she was a little unnerved to discover they were surrounded. Heat crept up her neck, and she pulled back to find Queen Nerilla waiting for them with a big smile.
“I must say, I’m surprised you both made it out alive.” Nerilla glanced down at the bracer, her smile growing. “Mason made a wise choice in selecting his mate.”
Mason came to stand at her side, his hair swaying around his head in contentment, and he handed over the skull bowl. The joy of being able to claim him as a mate faded under the gravity of what happened.
Not wanting to drag it out, she flipped off the shirt to reveal the assortment of gems. Nerilla’s expression flattened, her eyes hardening. When the queen clenched her hands into sizable fists, Annora hurried to explain how they came into possession of them. “Flora has been ambushing the trials. Probably has been for years.
“She was down in the tunnels, waiting for me…along with a half a dozen or so other trolls. She was controlling them with these.” She tipped the bowl until the light caught the stones and shimmered. “My guess is she got a taste for bossing people around when she tormented Mason while he was growing up.
“She planned to take over your tribe, but Mason’s return upped her timetable. She couldn’t resist getting revenge on him for daring to leave.”
“Stupid fool refused to listen when I spoke of the old traditions. She thought it was a weakness.” Nerilla shook her head, her straw-like hair drooping, her gaze dropping to the gems again. Then she pursed her meaty lips until she resembled a cow trying to give a kiss. “What will you do with the stones?”
Anticipation and dread thickened the air. Only Mason’s steady hand stopped Annora from recoiling. Nerilla’s calculating eyes studied her, weighing the odds of which one of them would win if it came down to a challenge.
Bile rose in her throat at the thought of being in charge of the tribe, and she quickly shoved the bowl toward Nerilla.
The troll’s eyes widened in surprise, and she automatically accepted the offering. “I…don’t understand.”
“Tradition is worth observing.” Annora glanced at Mason over her shoulder and gave him a small smile. “I only need one troll in my life.”
“I knew I liked you.” A hearty slap on her back nearly sent Annora sprawling, and she smashed face-first into Mason’s chest. Boisterous laughter filled the village, and she found herself being dragged away. “Come, let’s put some meat on your bones.”
Annora cast pleading looks at her guys but saw that they were in a similar situation. A tankard of beer was shoved into her hands, and a roar went up as everyone lifted their mugs in a cheer. For the next hour, the trolls drank enough to sink a ship, while wrestling and laughing and some even openly fucking.
And for the first time, she saw Mason embracing his true self, laughing and joking with other trolls. Now that Flora was no longer there to torment and taint his experience, he was accepted as one of them. The rest of the guys, along with the wolves, mingled with the trolls, eating and drinking.
To her surprise, Logan stayed away from the alcohol. His self-destructive habits had vanished over the past few weeks. She’d seen him struggling at times, saw his hands shake, heard him throw up while his body detoxed, but he remained determined to be a better person. He was changing, coming into his own, and seemed to be truly happy. Even the nightmares seemed to be fading a bit at a time.
Nerilla caught her attent
ion, then jerked her head away from the others, shoving away two overly friendly trolls in her path while she made her way toward a smaller fire. Annora glanced at her men, glad to see them joking and laughing. Not wanting to disturb their fun—not knowing when they’d get the chance again—she followed the queen.
But she should’ve known better—the instant she turned away, the guys followed.
The wolves were slower to extract themselves and covered their retreat. Loulou and Willa were silent as they were hustled away between two of the larger ones. The wolves hovered at the perimeter of the fire but kept their distance.
The queen smirked, her greenish-grey skin carrying a rosy tint of too much liquor. “Your men are very devoted to you.”
Annora stiffened, and Nerilla snorted, rolling her eyes. “I have no use for your small men. I have decided to give you a warning. Now that we’re allies, I can officially tell you a faction within the witches is actively hunting you. They’re about a day’s march from here. They’ve been camping out for over a week, trying to make a deal with us to hand you over.”
Annora studied the growing shadows as evening fell, half expecting to see the witches crawling out of the surrounding trees. “Why tell me? Why align with me when you can make an alliance with them for more?”
“Witches are a bunch of pussies.” Nerilla noisily cleared her throat, then hocked a wad of phlegm into the fire. “You dealt with us honorably. You’ve proven yourself in battle. War is brewing, and paranormal species are taking sides. I believe you’re the stronger bet. We’ll fight with you when the time comes.”
The queen tipped back her cup, draining it so fast the liquid dribbled down her chin. Even as she lowered the mug, she swiped her mouth with the back of her arm. “You’ll need to leave tonight if you want to escape. Go through the tunnels. It’ll take the witches time to pick up your trail on the other side of the mountains.”
Stunned that the trolls had decided to back her, Annora cleared her throat, grateful for the warning. “Thank you!”
“Good luck to you. Make sure you succeed.” Nerilla turned away, scratching under her massive boob, then belched loud enough that it seemed to echo in the darkness as she vanished into a cluster of trolls.
Ransomed to the World Page 11
