Chapter 2
“Diplomacy is just a fancy word for ‘try not to kill anyone while you’re asking for help.’ Unfortunately, some people hear ‘try not’ as more of a suggestion.” ~Kara
Kara held her chin high, arms folded tight across her chest as if bracing herself against the weight of what she’d just done.
Told a Troll King she was a witch. In hindsight . . . questionable life choice.
But the words were out and echoing through the cavern now, too late to stuff them back down her throat.
The king, a wall of stone and muscle built out of nightmares and bad decisions, loomed in front of her cage.
His eyes, black as polished obsidian and just as cold, tracked over her face the way a wolf might study a rabbit that had started reciting insults instead of running.
Even the air seemed to hesitate, the low rumble of the trolls fading until the chamber settled in a silence so thick it pressed against her skin.
Kara resisted the urge to fidget. She really, really wanted to fidget.
Chains creaked somewhere behind her, the sound sharp as breaking bone.
Nick’s growl followed, soft but steady, the kind of dangerous rhythm that made the hair on Kara’s arms rise.
He was in his cage beside hers, too close and too far all at once, his eyes burning gold through the gloom, wolf close enough she could practically see his fur rippling under his skin.
“Touch her,” Nick said, voice flat and lethal, “and the things I will do to you will cause your clan to have nightmares for the rest of their lives.”
The Troll King didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even acknowledge him.
Which somehow made it worse.
He kept his focus locked on Kara. “A witch,” he repeated, the words rolling slow and heavy, as though language itself offended him. “That is not what you smell like.”
Kara’s smile felt brittle. “Well, I like to keep people guessing.”
From the next cage, Wadim snorted, the sound echoing off rock. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Not helping,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
The Troll King stepped closer, the ground beneath him complaining with every movement, rock grinding against rock under his huge feet.
His shadow slid over her like a stormfront.
The smell of him, iron, soil, something older, hit her nose and made the back of her throat itch.
Her pulse quickened, but she refused to retreat.
She’d learned a long time ago that backing down around predators only painted you red.
“You are not troll,” he said. “Not wolf. Not fae.” His head tilted, too slow. “Not anything I have encountered.”
“Pretty sure you already said that,” Kara managed. “I’ve been confused about what I am for years. So, who’s this fae you were going to have come out and test me?”
His mouth curved, not into a smile, not exactly. His expression flickered through something sharp and interested before hardening again, and the heat coming off him changed. Predatory. Appraising.
Yep. Definitely not comforting.
From the edges of her vision, she caught motion, Zara’s fingers gripping the bars, Gavril’s shoulders coiled and ready, Rachel standing at the far back of her cage, eyes flaring green in the dim light.
Aphid hadn’t moved, but tension rolled from the fae’s form in subtle waves.
Every one of them prepared for something to go wrong.
And it would. Because when didn’t it? Kara had an extensive amount of examples of things going wrong since Peri and her merry band had entered her life.
So, she should be prepared for anything.
Unfortunately, she was still sure there were surprises that life was going to smack her in the face with, and it would most likely feel like being hit with a shovel. Something to look forward to, no doubt.
“Do not worry, he will be here.” The Troll King lifted one enormous hand toward her cage. The bones in his wrist cracked audibly as he extended a finger thicker than her wrist.
Nick lunged. The clang of iron on iron exploded through the chamber, and the entire line of cages rattled. His cage door bowed under the force, the bars leaving dents in his palms. “Don’t. Touch. Her.”
The sound carried enough menace to make three nearby trolls snarl and step back.
The king paused, turning only his head to regard Nick. For a long, stretched heartbeat they simply stared at one another, predator to predator, the space between them pulsing with violence waiting for permission.
Then the Troll King smiled. And sweet hell, it wasn’t friendly.
“Such loyalty,” he said, voice nearly a purr. “It will make this more interesting.”
Kara’s stomach dropped. Yeah. That word again. Never good.
“Define interesting,” she said quickly. “Because I feel like your definition and mine are wildly different.”
He ignored her. Which was rude but also, at this point, entirely on brand.
His gaze swept over the rest of the cages: Wadim with his historian calm, Zara tracking every movement with a low growl in her chest, and Gavril’s jaw flexing as if he was counting down heartbeats.
Aphid didn’t even bother to mask his distaste; his silver-blue irises were bright enough to cast faint reflections on the iron bars.
“You come into my realm,” the king said, raising his voice so it filled the cavern, bouncing off the wet walls, “speaking of peace. Of alliance.” He bared teeth the color of weathered ivory. “And yet you bring chaos with you.”
Kara blinked. “Excuse me? We literally just got here.”
“No,” he said, snapping his gaze back to her. The impact felt physical. “You brought it with you.”
The words hit harder than they should have, slicing clean through her smart-mouth armor.
She frowned. “Okay, now that just feels personal.”
But something had started to shift. It was under her feet at first, subtle as a heartbeat beneath the earth.
Then a hum followed, low and strange, brushing butterfly-light against the edges of her senses.
Magic, but wrong somehow. Suddenly, a fae male appeared, flashing into the cave, apparently not having the same issues that Aphid had.
His bright, green eyes collided with hers and narrowed as he stared her down.
Her breath snagged. She heard Aphid’s voice, probably attempting to interact with the fae but she couldn’t distinguish what he said. She was too busy focused on something just beyond…
There it was again.
That feeling.
Her hand dropped to her stomach without conscious thought, palm flattening as if she could press the sensation out of existence.
The hum thickened, threading through the air, the cages, the very bones of the cavern.
It wasn’t just her; she could tell by the way dust stirred along the floor and the torches guttered.
Not a surface-level wrong. A deep, pulsing wrong. Like something was being drained.
Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t—
“You feel it, don’t you?”
Her head snapped up.
The Troll King’s gaze had sharpened to a knife’s edge. His nostrils flared, tasting the air between them. It wasn’t the King who’d spoken. It was the fae. And he looked like he knew something.
Crap. She forced a shrug. “Feel what? The overwhelming urge to redecorate this place? Because yeah, we should definitely start with the cages.”
Several trolls shifted, shoulders bunching, deep grumbles rippling through the dark.
Nick made a strangled noise that might have been a laugh if it weren’t layered with threat.
The Troll King didn’t share the joke this time.
“You are connected to something,” he said, voice low and certain. “Something that does not belong here.” He glanced at the fae who’d appeared next to him. “Do you sense it?”
The fae male nodded, but did not speak. He simply continued to stare at her.
Kara’s pulse slammed in her ears. He doesn’t know, she told herself. He can’t know. Gypsy healers were too valuable to just about any race, and she’d learned the hard way that it was best to keep her race to herself.
Unfortunately, her magic didn’t get the memo and nearly betrayed her.
It stirred, restless, rising from somewhere deeper than the healing warmth she used on the sick or wounded.
She pushed it down and did something she’d never consciously tried before.
Kara grabbed a hold of the other side, the side of her blood, witch blood, cold and sharp, answering the same vibration twisting through the cavern.
It coiled under her skin and pulsed back at the realm like a mirror. Oh, that’s not good.
Her mouth was dry. “Okay,” she said lightly, pretending the tremor in her voice was humor. “Now you’re just making me sound way more compelling than I actually am.”
The Troll King’s eyes narrowed further, the flicker of reflected firelight turning his pupils to molten ink. “You will be tested.”
Naturally. Because the universe loved to screw with her. It had been screwing with her since she was born. Why stop now?
Wadim’s calm voice broke across the tension from behind her. “Define tested,” he said, tone so mild it only made the threat clearer.
The Troll King ignored him completely, attention fixed on Kara like she was the only variable that mattered.
“We will see,” he rumbled, “what you truly are.”
The ground answered him. A tremor rolled through the cavern, shaking dust from the ceiling, rattling the chains, making the cages groan. The air grew thick, every breath heavy with stone dust and electricity.
Kara’s eyes shot open wide as that unseen force surged up through her bare feet, crawling through muscle and bone until it cinched around her lungs. And suddenly she knew. This wasn’t troll magic. This wasn’t even coming from the troll realm.
Something else moved beneath it, something ancient and hungry, and it was feeding. Not on them exactly, but through them. Through the ground. Through her. And whatever it was . . . it had just noticed her noticing.
A cold line traced her spine, sharp as a blade tip. She pressed her palm harder to her stomach, wanting to somehow protect her unborn child as she barely breathed.