The Toll (23 page)

“
What was in it fer ye?” he
asked after what felt like an hour, defeat and pain lacing his
tone.

Spine stiffening, I forced myself to
try and calm down. Determined to be the civil one until he could
find an ounce of reason in that pea sized troll brain of his, I
sighed noisily and scooped out a bowlful of stew.

I was tempted to just keep ignoring
him, but I knew better, it would only rile him further and he’d
just keep harping at me. The state he was in, I didn’t know how far
he’d take it.

Turning, I gave him a quick, droll
stare before I answered, “I told you. I have no idea what you’re
talking about.”

“
Liar,” he grumbled,
staring off into the fire.

“
You know I’m not,” I
quipped, tapping my nose.

His answer was a teeth baring snarl,
his eyes tracking my every move.

Not about to serve him after all that,
I put the lid on the pot and walked over to my pallet of furs,
taking my bowl with me, sitting on the edge so it looked like I
wasn’t intentionally facing away from him.

“
Ye stupid little eejit,”
he griped, “fuckin’ fucked me.”

“
If it makes you feel
better to call it that, be my guest.”

“
Ye dinna even know wha’
ye’ve done, do ye?” he demanded.

“
Does sex make trolls lose
their minds?” Raising my brows, I asked the thought out loud,
though I really hadn’t intended to.

My bowl was ripped out of my hands and
I was plucked up and tossed over his thick, gargantuan shoulder as
he lugged me, kicking and screaming, followed by the occasional
bite, to the back catacombs.

Striding purposefully with me over his
shoulder, he took two left turns, and I knew he was headed towards
the small, natural spring of water, the one I washed and bathed
in.

Oh, god...

“
Put me down!” I bellowed,
screaming as he tossed me in.

My head resurfaced, popping up like a
cork, and I made sure I spit every drop of water I’d accidently
sucked in at his face.

He growled as he swiped at it with his
arm, his eyes straying to my breasts, standing out and proud, quite
obviously on display through my soaked white shirt.

“
Tell me, nugget, do ye
like bein’ bound ta a troll?” He spat the words at me like I should
know what he meant. “Did they pay ye handsomely ta best me,
hmm?”

Squinting up at him, I ran a hand over
my hair, pushing the orange mass away from my face.

“
You’re having issues with
me being your slave?” I spluttered, incredulous.
“
Now?
Don’t you
think you should have thought that through
before
you tricked me? Or are you
having regrets since we...” I was loath to say made love now,
“tupped?”

Eyes flashing at my choice of words,
he roared and made a go at me.

Diving off to the side, I ducked and
threw my hands over my head protectively, nowhere else to go,
assuming he was going to attack me as he charged
forward.

The second he splashed, signaling he’d
entered the little pool, I shot off for the side.

Swooping in, he easily caught me,
pressing my chest into the rough rim of the dirt lip that
encompassed the natural spring.

His hand came around my neck and I
gasped, fully expecting him to strangle me. With a harsh snarl, he
groaned as his body fell forward, blanketing mine with
his.

“
I canna even throttle ye
properly,” he snapped, breathing heavily into my hair. His chest
heaved as he took in deep lungfuls, his limbs trembling as he kept
a firm grip on the back of my neck, massaging it and then stopping,
as if he’d caught himself, thick grey fingers twitching at the
suppressed effort. “Wha’ have ye done ta me?” he groaned, before he
couldn’t take it anymore and turned me towards him. With an angry
snarl, his lips found mine, capturing my protests and arguments, my
adamant shrieks, swallowing them up skillfully, his tongue slipping
in as he tried to tangle it with mine.

Soon realizing it was a bit of a
one-sided affair, his chest rumbled as he pulled back, eyes
narrowing as he studied me.

Shaken, I stared up at him, trembling
all over, shaking hands shooting up protectively to cup my throat.
Grimacing, he cursed at the look on my face, the stark panic—the
fear.

His hands came up and tugged mine
back, clamping them both in one of his own, the other slowly
running up the column of my throat, caressing up and down it a few
times before his thumb stopped, pressing in gently.

“
What do ye have to say fer
yerself? Canna ye see? Ye’ve ruined me.” Voice low and bitter, he
was full of anger and simmering hostility.

“
I don’t understand. I... I
don’t understand you at all. You’re not making any sense, Gerst...”
Freezing instantaneously, I stopped myself before I used his name,
fearing I might send him into another rage. “I never did anything
to you.”

“
Ye still deny it, then?”
he grumbled, pressing his thumb in a little tighter.

“
I didn’t do anything,” I
whispered, fighting his vice-like grip as he held me
captive.

His hand slid up through my hair,
gripping the back of it in a firm grip as he released my
neck.

“
Broken, I am. Ye bonded ta
me an’ I canna even stomach the thought of ye hurtin’. I wish I
could choke the life out of ye,” growling, he shook me a little,
“fer what ye did ta me.” He flexed his fingers, making me cry out
as he tugged my head to the side, leaving my neck opened and
exposed, vulnerable.

Leaning in closer, his tongue came
out, licking a hot, wet path across the smooth, pale flesh, his
hand coming up and releasing my shoulder as he tugged at the
neckline of my soaked shirt.

Groaning from deep in the back of his
throat, he reached the itchy rash he’d just bared, the stinging,
unbearable pain stopping the second his lips and tongue rasped
across it.

“
Mine,” he muttered
quietly, his voice short and gruff, doing it again, and again, then
moving across, methodically, to the other side, until there wasn’t
a single part of my bared neck or shoulders he hadn’t touched or
kissed. Unconsciously soothed.

“
Ppp... please, stop,” I
stuttered, “you’re... acting strange.”

“
Ye goin’ ta fight me if I
dinna?” He seemed loath to be disturbed while he explored
my
exposed shoulders,
having rid me of my shirt with one firm tug and a loud rip moments
later. He barely even lifted his head as he grudgingly acknowledged
me, making sure he kept close to his prize.

“
You’re...” I began,
swallowing hard before I continued, “You’re f-f-f-f-frightening
me.”

Stilling, he growled in frustration,
making me jump, but his hands immediately fell away.

“
Ye’re a damned curse,” he
grumbled, reaching out to touch me, but then clenched his hand into
a fist as my eyes widened, flexing it right in front of my face, to
pull back. Cursing again, he dropped his hand to his side and
turned his back to me.

Exhaling loudly, I let out the breath
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“
I shoulda let ye drown, or
choked ye when I had the chance.” Shoulders slumping, he got out of
the water and trudged out of the room, leaving me standing in the
middle of the pool, my shirt around my waist, lips swollen from his
kisses, body trembling in both fear and want, mixing the two in a
mangled mish mash, staring after him.

****

Steering clear of him, I stayed
towards the back of the catacombs, air drying in nothing but my
birthday suit, waiting until the sun must surely be out, ensuring
Troll would be fast asleep by now.

At least, I hoped so.

As quietly as possible, I tip toed to
my pallet on silent feet, digging through my bag and tossing my
chemise over my head, quickly finishing dressing before I slipped
into my bed.

Rolling over, I curled up into a
little ball, tugging my blanket over me, covering my mouth with my
hand so I wouldn’t be heard sobbing uncontrollably, unable to hold
it in, but fearing I might wake him.

When did my life become a
nightmare?
I wondered, wishing this was
all a dream.

****

I jerked and shot up, crying out, my
hands reaching for my throat instinctively as my eyes scanned the
room.

A hand came up and shoved me back
down.

Crying out, I screamed and kicked at
my captor.

Troll roared as my fist connected with
his jaw, a jarring pain shooting up my arm as I pulled it back,
prepared to swing again.

Effectively restraining me, he shoved
my hands up high over my head, pinning them down on either side of
me, before I’d gotten the chance.

“
Dinna hit me again,” he
snarled, and I froze at the sound of his voice.

His warm breath fanned over my face,
nose almost touching mine as he studied me.

Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes, my
lips trembling, biting back the curse I wanted to mutter, holding
perfectly still, hoping a fissure would open up the cave floor,
swallowing me up whole.

“
I’ve killed men fer
less.”

Feeling my face transform into a
scowl, I opened my eyes, sick and tired of crying, tired of
hurting. Tired of fighting. “Do it, then.”

Leaning in, he shook his head and
nipped my chin. I jerked, shocked at the intimate
gesture.

“
No,” he said thoughtfully,
placing a chaste kiss where he’d nipped. “No. I think I have a
better idea.”

“
Don’t.” My voice came out
a soft whisper, just shy of a plea, as he leaned down, pressing
himself into me, to kiss me.

With measured patience and tenderness,
his hand came up and slowly caressed the side of my
face.

Instinctively, I flushed and turned
away.

“
Come now, nugget, dinna be
sore at me for so long,” he paused for a moment before he nuzzled
me and his teeth worried my neck, “ye dinna know how sorry I
am.”

I hated my body for responding to him
so easily, catching fire at the merest touch, kiss, sweetly
whispered words. I hated it and I loved it, swallowing past the
lump in my throat as I found it in me to speak.

“
You scared me
today.”

“
I’ll make it up ta ye,” he
promised, his hands slowly sliding underneath my dress, shimmying
up my legs to tug at my bloomers. “Tis only fair, yes?”

“
I still don’t understand
what you were...”

His lips met mine hungrily as he shut
me up, cutting me off with a hurried, “It’ll make sense ta ye
later, dafty. Not now. Later. Much later.”

“
I don’t understand you at
all,” I muttered as his ardor rose, taking me with him as he
finally broke me down, licking and kissing his way, expertly, back
into my loose knickers.

Ashes In My Mouth

Goose flesh dotting my skin, I woke up
cold and shivering, my skin bumping up from the lack of heat.
Confused and groggy, I sat up, clutching the tattered sheet that I
found draped over me, pulled up to my chest.

I was back on my own pallet, but there
were no furs and it felt damp in the air, almost musty.

There was a faint light coming from
the mouth of the dwelling, the wind whistling through it howling,
echoing hollowly through the dim space.

My eyes scanned around and I jumped
up, finding my clothes from last night underneath me. At the
sudden, unplanned movement, I winced, sore from Troll’s adamant
attentions.

He’d been voracious last night, wild
and untamed, as if he couldn’t get enough, more than before. I felt
as if he was squeezing a lifetime of pent up sexual frustration,
restrained carnal desires, into one single night.

My brow pulled down as I squinted
around the room, dressing hurriedly when I realized the fire wasn’t
lit.

My heart sped.
Something’s happened. The fire is never
out.

“
Gersthar... uhm, Troll?”
My voice echoed into the large, now mostly emptied space, met with
utter silence.

Bare feet pricking, I walked to his
sleeping quarters to find it empty, a small sack sitting in the
middle of the room, right where his sleeping pallet should
be.

There was a note underneath the small
yet heavy bag tied with twine, I noticed, lifting it up gingerly as
I carefully read over the missive.

All it had written on it in was my
name, in big sprawling script, absent of any natural flow, almost
like chopped up block lettering. I flipped it over, noting a bit of
much smaller script on the back.

“
This doesn’t make sense,”
I muttered. “This is just gibberish.”