Chapter Thirty-Nine
MASON
THE TROLLS ARE loud as they weave through the woods, some dangerously close. They scatter when they notice our approach, though. They’ve never been a fan of shifters, and I’m a large one.
The human makes a noise, and my lips twitch when it’s followed up with a quiet grunt. She’s always making noises, from popping her lips to drumming her fingers against her thighs to constantly twisting her hands around her backpack straps.
It annoyed me at first, but I’ve grown used to them. It’s almost a comfort now, to hear them and know she’s alive. Almost .
There’s movement on my left as a few trolls come dangerously close to where we’re walking. They whisper to themselves, but once they see Kie and me, they take off in the opposite direction. It’s amusing, and I cross my arms over my chest when I hear one trip.
I enjoy listening to them scamper, and if I weren’t so worried about the trouble the human would get into if I left her alone, I’d chase them down.
Trolls are such nasty creatures.
Abby—I’m officially giving up on calling her the human —should be thankful I’m keeping the trolls away from her.
Well, maybe not.
Despite what Kie wants her to believe, we aren’t the good guys here.
We’re making the conscious decision to trade Abby to better the odds we get what we want from Zaha, a decision I’m not entirely proud of. I’m the bad guy here, and I know that. Abby does, too.