Curse of the Troll, Emma Hamm [books to read to increase intelligence TXT] 📗

the darkness to grab her and drag her to another cell. Which meant the troll princess had somehow kept her word. Strange.

Elva remembered which cell was his. It wasn’t easy to forget, although there were plenty of interesting things happening in the other cells.

One of the captured trolls groaned as she passed by. The male, or at least she thought it was a male, had stuck himself to the wall in hopes he might live a little longer. She wanted to tell him not to be afraid of the dying light in his soul. There was more for him in the afterlife than staying here, lingering in the darkness of the cells and the damp wet air.

They wouldn’t listen to her anyway. The trolls didn’t believe in the Seelie Court’s myths of what death was like. They, like the Unseelie Court, didn’t believe faeries had souls.

Maybe they were right, but she didn’t want to find out until the last second of her life when everything faded from view.

She touched her fingers to the cold bars of the cell where Donnacha laid on his cot. Had she really put him to sleep again? That would put a wrench in her plans. She’d wanted to speak with him, to figure out what they were going to do.

Pulling the bars open, she moved into the cell with a whisper of shifting fabric.

“Donnacha?” she asked. “Are you awake?”

His fingers twitched.

Elva moved closer to him, pulling off her cloak and laying it over his body that was somehow dirty already. “I’m sorry, dwarf. I know this isn’t the easiest thing you’ve ever suffered through. But I do think we’ll be able to figure out a plan.”

His eyes opened, although it was a struggle. He looked at her with panic and desperation.

She wouldn’t have that.

Elva touched her fingers to his cheek and smiled as brightly as she could muster. “I’ll tell you everything. And by the time I’m done, the poison will have worn off. Don’t worry, Donnacha, everything is going to be all right.”

She told him everything she’d done with the troll princess, starting from the beginning. If anyone would know what to do, it was Donnacha. He let his eyes drift shut as she spoke, but she knew he was listening.

Halfway through the tale, he slowly shifted his hand across the cot and then covered hers with the warmth of his. How did he manage to always make her stomach clench? Just from a small movement, and it wasn’t like he’d done much.

Elva stumbled over her words. He couldn’t know that meant so much to her, could he? Did he know his support was the only thing keeping her from flying apart into a thousand pieces?

She’d guessed the poison’s longevity correctly. By the time she told him about the sword, Donnacha moved to sit up on the cot. He shook his hands to get the feeling back in them.

“A sword?” he said with a grin. “Was that really the best idea?”

“It didn’t seem like it at the time. But your cousin gave me this pack and, thus far, it’s created items she can’t say no to.”

“It wasn’t really the sword of Nuada, was it?”

She gave him an unimpressed look. “Do you think I’d give something of that power to a troll?”

“I’m just curious because Angus did have that particular item in his possession for a very long time. He’s kept it secret, and I highly doubt he’d use it for you, but the man has surprised me before.”

Yet again, Elva felt herself tongue-tied. Spluttering, she managed, “Your cousin had the sword of Nuada? The sword everyone in both courts has been searching for? For centuries?”

“Well, Angus isn’t centuries old, so it wasn’t always in his possession. I think his father was the one who originally found it, but don’t tell the dwarf king I was the one who told you that. He thinks it’s a good story to tell pretty women.” He stared at her with sudden heat. “He didn’t try to woo you, did he?”

Elva had to cover her mouth so she didn’t bark out laughter. “What?”

“You’re his type. You can tell me if he tried something. I’ll just break his arm for it when I see him next.”

“He didn’t try anything,” she said with a muffled giggle. “What is it with you dwarves? Are all of you interested in Seelie faeries?”

Donnacha reached out and caught a golden curl between his fingers. He rubbed the silken lock while giving her a stare that made her fists clench. “No, we’re not all that interested in Seelie faeries. I think it’s just you, Elva.”

They weren’t pretty words, not really, but somehow they meant all the more. “I was once known as the most beautiful woman in the Seelie court.”

“No,” he shook his head, dropping the curl to cup his hand around the back of her neck. “It isn’t that. It’s your confidence, your strength, your ability to continue on in the face of even a troll kingdom. I didn’t think it was possible anyone like you existed, and yet, here you are.”

His breath fanned across her face. “Here I am, dwarf. Now, what are you going to do with me?”

He shuddered. “So much that I cannot do in a dungeon.”

“I’ve never minded a little dirt.”

“Well, I do.” Instead of kissing her as she desperately wanted him to, Donnacha leaned up and pressed a kiss to her brow. “You deserve at least something comfortable for our first time.”

“First time?” She couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose on her arms just from his touch. The idea of sleeping with him, making love or whatever romantic thing people called it these days, wasn’t…awful.

When had that happened? The idea of someone touching her had made her shudder in fear, but now the idea of actually allowing him access to her body didn’t make her ill.

She’d tried once with another person. She’d thought that if she pushed herself and just did it, then she’d get over the fear. Unfortunately, that