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magic left to her name. He knew transporting him from her magic-made castle would have depleted her of any power she had for a little while yet. He could toe the line if he wanted to.

Donnacha grinned and stepped closer, watching the Princess’s eyes look him up and down as if he were something she wanted to feast upon. “She is a faerie princess who far outrivals you. The most beautiful woman to have ever walked this earth, and the strongest creature I’ve met in my life.”

The Princess’s eyes darted toward her mother. “What does this have to do with me having him?”

Before the Queen could reply, Donnacha interrupted. “Everything. It has everything to do with you and I, because I am well and truly hers already.”

“Enough,” the Troll Queen snapped. “You are no one’s but mine. Wasn’t that the deal we made? You could try to survive my curse, but if you didn’t, then I own you body and soul.”

“I didn’t make that deal. No one made that deal but you.”

The Troll Queen shrugged. “Semantics. I cursed you. That means we have a deal whether you wanted to agree to one or not. And now you’re here.”

“I won’t marry your daughter under any circumstances.”

“You don’t have to marry her.” The Troll Queen began to laugh, and her daughter joined in. The booming noises lifted to the ceiling with the last of his hopes. “My dear Donnacha, I don’t want you anywhere near a throne. You aren’t marrying her at all. You just have to…satisfy her. Long enough for an heir to be born.”

Gods, he didn’t want to think of that. No wedding, just a slave to a creature such as her.

There had to be a way to stall. A way around this so that Elva could get here.

Donnacha didn’t doubt she would come for him. She was too strong to let someone take something from her this easily.

The Troll Kingdom was difficult to find, true, but she would manage. And when she arrived, he knew she would take action. In the meantime, he had to make certain he wasn’t completely broken when she did get here.

Squaring his shoulders, he met the gaze of the Troll Princess. “You’re happy with this arrangement?”

She nodded and wiggled her shoulders into the stone. For a second, he thought she was getting comfortable until he realized she was scratching her back.

He shook his head, telling himself to get through this. He could distract them, and he didn’t intend on distracting them with his body. “Then you will forever be less important, less beautiful, and certainly less powerful than the woman who came before you.”

That caught her attention. The Troll Princess sat up straight. “Why? I am clearly better than she could ever be.”

Disgusting. He schooled his features into a smooth expression. “If you don’t marry me, Troll Princess, then you will only have claim to my body. What you want a claim to is my heart, so that long after you are done with me, your mark will linger. So I will be yours forever.”

“Forever is an awfully long time,” she mused.

“Forever is a gift of immortality, and by denying that, you are forever making yourself second best.”

Perhaps it was cruel to bait her such as this. She was, in mind at least, just a child. The Troll Queen had never allowed her daughter to live her life. The princess was sheltered, spoiled, and downright mean. He hated taking advantage of someone like this. It wasn’t in his nature to use others.

And yet, Donnacha realized he didn’t feel quite as bad as he should. The Troll Queen was finally getting a dose of her own medicine. And it felt really, really good.

He met her angered glare head on. No longer would she use fear to make him do what she wanted. Donnacha had been bound in chains for so many years, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be free. She wasn’t going to like this new version of him.

The Queen reached out and took her daughter’s hand. “Now, dear, don’t fret. You don’t have to marry a man to control him completely and utterly.”

“I don’t?”

“Of course not. He’s already our little slave to toy with as we wish. What he wants doesn’t matter. What you want matters.” The queen stroked her daughter’s face, running a long-nailed finger from forehead to jaw. “My beautiful little girl.”

Gods, he didn’t even like being in the same room with them. They made him sick. Or maybe that was the smell of the rotting food in the corner. Either way, he didn’t want to linger here longer than he had to. Which meant he had to finish what he’d started.

“Sure,” he said, raising a brow, “listen to your mother. But I think any young, remarkable woman such as yourself should have a wedding.”

“What’s that?” the princess asked, turning skeptical eyes to her mother.

Ah, so the princess didn’t exactly trust the queen. Not surprising since most trolls ate their young, at least a few. The queen only had the one child. No one else had fathered a sibling with her, and he couldn’t blame the princess for not trusting her mother. He could play off the tension between them.

Donnacha lifted a hand. “Only the most extravagant ball a faerie could throw. In the courts, weddings are planned for years. The bride will wear a gown of white gossamer, so beautiful it makes the crowd cry. The groom is dressed in a suit that fits the bride’s request, and then he places a ring on her finger more lovingly than the stars in the sky.”

Poetry seemed to work on the creature in front of him. The princess’s eyes glazed over as she imagined the tale he painted. He had a feeling she was more interested in the crowd adoring her than the rest of it, but he knew how to captivate an audience when he wanted to.

“And the dwarves…” He stepped forward, forcing her gaze back to him. “We

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