Troll-y Yours (25 page)

Al regarded Mr. Nubbs, a grave look in his eye. “This must be hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Not at all. It’s no harder than it must be for you.”

A look of understanding passed between the males.
Men and their secrets.
She could only speculate what all that was about. Maybe one day Al would tell her.

As if she were a spectator at a Wild West hanging, Ella watched the show. The guard who carried Pennelope into her cell stepped backward, never dropping her from his sights. The jail cell door swung and shut with a resounding bang. A medieval padlock latched her in.

On the freedom side of the bars, the three of them watched Pennelope retreat to a corner. Defeated, she slumped to the rock floor of her new home.

Unable to dissolve to freedom.
A Troll’s nightmare.

With a sigh, Al threaded his fingers through Ella’s. “Let’s go.”

Out in the hallway with the grotto on the other side of the door, she smoothed out her skirt and breathed a sigh of relief. Sounds of happy children drifted from the atrium, their squeals of delight pleasant to hear after the doom and gloom of prison.

“You off then?” Mr. Nubbs asked as she and Al continued on to their original destination which would take them somewhere outside.

Her handsome Centaur was being very mysterious by not telling her where they were going.

Ella loved every minute of it. It didn’t matter to her where they went—be it two steps or two miles from the palace. All she cared about was the way his eyes heated when he looked at her, and his seriousness to get her
there
.

Theirs may have started off with attraction and a physical relationship, but for her it went beyond the carnal stuff.

She was in heartbreak zone—and there was no turning back.

Al clapped Mr. Nubbs on the shoulder and laughed, their camaraderie evident. “Don’t wait up for me,
dad
.”

“Fu—uh—have a nice time.” Mr. Nubbs choked on his retort as he struggled to keep it clean.

The awkward response from the very serious Nubbs, only made Al laugh again.

Mr. Nubbs turned on his stiff patent leather heel and walked toward the atrium.

Ella gazed after the man’s retreating back. “Are he and Queen Savella an item?”

The pair certainly seemed cozy enough when they surprised her and Al a few weeks back.

Al pushed open the outer door and flooded them with warm sunlight. “I don’t think so. They seem an unlikely pair.”

Ella didn’t think chemistry heeded if connections were likely or not. When the L-bomb fell on you, it’s not like you had a choice. Just look at her and Al. Well…her anyway. Maybe not for Al.

Together, they stepped out into the last of the autumn warmth.

“All right, Captain Chimpy-nuts. Where to now?” She didn’t know where they were headed, but a relaxing walk in the gorgeous forest on a lovely autumn day is exactly what she needed to lift her spirits after the sights and smells of the lower dungeon.

“Captain what?”

Ella giggled in return and lifted her gaze to his.

“I’ll have you know I’m a highly respected, much decorated officer in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s go.”

Aleksander leaned in, his gold chain swinging forward. His soft lips nibbled hers. “I think you’ll like where we’re going.”

Ella deepened their kiss and wrapped her arms around his waist. She slid her hips against the hardening length of him.
If you’re there, I’ll always be deliriously happy.

Thirty-Four

A
l held back giant fern fronds while Ella shoved at the Wood Nymph branches that slapped her ass as she passed. He seemed eager to get where he was going, yet wouldn’t tell her their destination. Following in his wake on the single-file trail wasn’t a burden; the view in front pulled her along like the river’s current.

To reach the clearing ahead, she lifted her booted foot to rest atop the tree root, rather than over.
Nasty Nymph males.
They’d try anything to get between a female’s legs.

Then, Al might get possessively pissed and call him out, the warriors would probably get into a fight. The saying goes,
if you fight one Wood Nymph, you fought the whole root system,
and—yeah. She didn’t need to go there.

Tender shoots of green clover spread out as a spongy carpet beneath her feet while she moved into the clearing and stood beside Al.

In front of them, rising to the clear blue sky, stood a granite rock wall she recalled all too well. An overflow of flashbacks painted the scenes in her mind. Vivid memories imprinted on her heart: her playing nurse to Aleksander’s gunshot wound, a steamy shower that had nothing to do with water temperature, the miles of smooth skin over hard muscular ridges, and soft bed linens that covered a thick floorbed.

And sex.
Lots of it.

Ella flicked her gaze from the bracing granite to watch a sycamore leaf tumble in midair. The pointed spires turned in graceful rotation.

The orange leaf of fall drifted through the air and landed on Al’s shoulder.

For some reason, this simple act of nature made her smile—and that’s when she knew. As sure as the pulse that thrummed in her mythological veins, Ella knew.

Life would be meaningless without her Centaur.

“Go ahead, open the door,” Aleksander prompted, his voice rough.

She got the impression he, too, was revisiting their time spent at the cave house after their escape from the hunter.

Hell, his iridescent red and orange aura blazed brighter than a Boronda sunset. It all but shouted his increase in sexual energy and reflected his inner facet.

Ella didn’t need much prodding to turn back the clock and put herself in the sensual mood all over again. She fixed her eyes to the crack in the rock, the imperceptible fracture that ran down from the top, just off center. When she stepped forward, she moistened her dry lips and wondered if they could recapture the past…then hold on to it for a lifetime.

Will I be enough for Kempor Aleksander?

Al seemed to reach with his senses and search the surrounding area.

Ella ran her fingers along the crack and felt for a protruding bump, different in size and shape from the rest. Finding such, she was surprised at the ease in which the mechanism gave in to her finger pressure.

Silent and smooth, the rock door broke away from the boulder’s face and popped outward on metal hinges.

Excitement grew inside of her, and when she looked over at Al and saw the heat in his eyes, it bubbled right over and melted her toes.

Alek used his forefinger to tap the rough stone. “Open the door, Ella.”

What was the big deal?
It’s not like she hadn’t been inside before. Or—maybe he wanted this to be a decision she made on her own. When they were here before, it was to hide in a safe place and take care of Al’s injured leg.

Either way, she would finally be alone with her male, and the world could go to hell.

Her heart played a chromatic scale, as if a row of graduated bars were mounted inside her ribcage, ready to improvise a marimba.

Happy and nervous, Ella opened the door.

*~*~*

I am Kempor Aleksander, Head Centaur Guard. There is nothing I fear and females love me.

Inside his head, Alek repeated the positive affirmation that served him well over the past two hundred years. Only this time, his words rang hollow.

There
was
something he feared, and he’d give it all up—the career path he’d carved since his colt youth, his incredible good looks—to be sure of the answer. None of it mattered, if the one thing he feared most came to pass.

A life without Ella.

Would she feel threatened and run away? Or, would she accept him, numerous faults and all, and stay? Aleksander held his breath. The strange sensation of anticipated dread stuttered the beat of his heart.

Ella took three steps into the safe house and ground to a halt.

His pulse picked up from where it nearly stopped, then hammered a fast-paced rhythm. Palms sweaty, neck itchy, he wanted to stretch-out the collar on his t-shirt.

Oh wait, he’d already done that.

Ella gave a small laugh. “What has Mr. Nubbs done to the place?”

Yeah, a bit of renovation had taken place, though it wasn’t done by surly Nubbs.

Heat hit his cheeks, and the reaction surprised him further. Juxtaposed against his reputation, it was pretty damned embarrassing. But then, Ella was worth it.

Every day after work for two weeks, Alek had put in long hours here. The ratty old furniture was gone, replaced by leather chairs with curled armrests and fancy wooden legs. Across the new coffee table sat a matching couch with too many throw pillows. It looked as sleek as it was comfortable.

Females liked that sort of thing. At least, that’s what Rhycious’s wife, Patience, told him.

“Did you know he redecorated?” she asked softly.

“Well, you know…Nubbs is thinking of letting this place go. And I was kind of wondering—”

“Just look at these paintings! Not a dead Troll in sight.” Ella turned a circle on the new area carpet he’d laid just last night, her eyes soaking in everything from the books on the side table to the nesting boxes displayed above the mantle. Moving ahead, she crossed the room.

“Actually…it wasn’t Nu—”

“Pan’s flute! Look what he’s done to the kitchen.” Ella gawked at the changes.

“Do you like it?” It was ridiculous, really. The way his heart beat in rapid staccato and him needing her approval.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s—it’s gorgeous.”

Truth be told, the kitchen update had taken the longest. Aleksander installed new countertops and hung cabinets with facing that matched the uneven texture of the cave. He broke tradition by painting the walls and cupboards the color of sand, then choosing ‘summertime tan’ for the granite counter. Natural lighting from outside was brought in via tubes, creating a warm, cozy feel.

“There hasn’t been time to unpack the new pots and pans. And the dishes are old, but nice. They’re passed down to the eldest son.” This and one other were the only items that remained of his family heirlooms since the Great War.

Appearing to be mesmerized, Ella’s fingers drifted over the set of Henckel knives in their block.

Overall, Aleksander was proud of how it all turned out in a short amount of time.

Ella grasped the knob closest to her. The drawer slid open with an ease that only came from excellent craftsmanship. It closed without a sound. “Is the place for sale?”

“Not any longer.”

At her fallen expression, Alek forced himself to kill time, to not give away his surprise. He wanted to wrap-up their tour in the room he renovated with Ella in mind. Gods it was hard, he couldn’t wait to tell her.

Still, he could use a little encouragement. “How do you like the changes so far?”

“I love it! But I’ll reserve my final decision until I see just one more place.” The green in her eyes flashed sensuous smoke. Between one blink and then next, Ella swung her hips while she sashayed down the hall, her boots silent on the new wool carpet runner.

In the aftermath of her ass-jiggling departure, Alek stood rooted to where he’d been left. He wore a damn-fool smile on his face and a growing hard-on in his pants. The air suddenly grew thin and his chest constricted as if squeezed by a fist. He dropped his jaw, and forced his lungs to expand and contract.

Pushing his feet forward, he ignored the three other stallrooms he passed. Memory served a sumptuous feast of the love they shared in the room up ahead; he hoped there’d be more memory makers in the future.

Their future.

When he turned the corner into the stallroom, Ella was sitting on the corner of the floorbed, her hands resting between her knees. The sound of his boots brought her tear-filled eyes up to gaze at him. “Was it you?”

Alek looked to where she’d been staring and saw the covered glass jar on the dresser. Inside, scraps of shredded toilet paper filled the container, her delicate handwriting showed through.

At a loss of what to say, he scraped his short hair back with frustrated fingers.
She hates it
. Why did he save her notes from that day? And worse, he displayed what he thought she would treasure in a fucking keepsake jar?

What in idiot. What a loser.

“Aleksander, look at me.” A tear tracked down her cheek, and another followed in its path. Ella indicated the room around them. “Is this all—you?”

He would do anything to keep her from crying. It gored his heart like a Minotaur horn to see tears on her cheeks. But answer her truthfully he would. Alek nodded.

His beautiful Troll brought her hands up to her face and slowly covered her eyes. Shoulders shaking, snuffling noises behind her palms, she bent forward and…cried.

I’m Kempor Aleksander. Head Centaur Guard. And I’m a worthless male without her.

For two hundred years, he’d roamed the Boronda Forest as a much sought-after male. The pleasure he’d given and taken over those years never fulfilled him. It only left him empty, unhappy, and yearning for more.

Love did strange things. It made him feel broken and splintered at the thought of life without Ella.

It was time. It was now or never.

“Ella—
Kalos.
I never meant to hurt you.” He moved to stand before her, then knelt on the soft green carpet. Gently, he rubbed her thigh through her skirt. “I want to show you the last family heirloom I have.”

While Alek waited for her hands to lower, he reached to the dresser and plucked a few tissues from the box.

Handing them over, she blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Her red-tipped nose matched her red-rimmed eyes, and still his Troll was a beauty. Ella lifted her gaze to meet his.

Aleksander took a deep, fortifying breath. Inside his chest, his heart thumped a trotting beat, clamoring to burst forth and gallop away. The hand he raised to rub his goatee shook as if he needed a drink.

Which he did.

Damn.

“Aleksander, it’s not what you think. I’m—”

“Shh, let me talk first.” He took a deep breath. “Not much was saved after the war, but I managed a few things.”

Inside the front pocket of his pants lay a leather drawstring pouch, which he grasped and pulled out. Untying the delicate silk string, he tugged the opening wide.

Gods…give me strength.
Prickles of sweat broke out on the back of his neck. “I saved the dishes because they belong to the eldest son—that’s me. But this also belongs to the eldest. It’s been in my family for generations.”

Upending the satchel, the platinum ring tumbled out. Brilliant as the day it was cut, a blue sapphire center circled by sparkling emeralds, and all surrounded by an explosion of diamonds that continued in channels down the sides.

Alek tossed the empty pouch on the bed and held the ring in the palm of his hand. It struck him as funny how small and insignificant the symbol of love looked there. Not so funny was the power one little ring held.

In his head, he heard his harsh, ragged breath. Kneeled before her, he bowed his head, showing respect for his chosen female. He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again.

“It may not be easy for us. After all, we’re from two different races.” Alek shook his head, meaning every spoken word. “But none of that matters, because I can’t imagine living my life without you. I can, however, dream of building a life
with
you...fathering our children…and loving you for all our mythic years.”

In Ella’s eyes, he saw the confused wonder in the tightening of her arched brows and the way she bit her lower lip.

Reaching to hold Ella’s hand, he raised his gaze and looked deeply into her soft green eyes. “I love you, and that’s something I’ve never said to a female before.” Alek wet his lips, nervous energy taking him for the ride of his life. “If you might—possibly—feel the same for me, would you…Ella, Troll of Boronda, consent to be my mated?”

*~*~*

No matter how fast she blinked her eyes, the view grew all wavy on Ella. She gripped the wadded tissue in a tight fist to her chest as if it were a talisman to ward off falling tears.

He loves me—Me! The plain Troll from nowhere.

Aleksander’s sexy brown eyes, the eyes she’d fallen in love with, frowned. “You’re neither plain nor from nowhere. You’re just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. And we’re sired from the same place, you and I. We come from Boronda.”