Chapter 14
"Hope is a dangerous thing underground. It grows roots before you realize it, and by the time fear comes calling, you’re already tangled in it." ~Nick
Nick stood near the mouth of the cavern chamber he and Kara had been given, arms folded across his chest, and watched pale blue mist drift through the massive stone corridors beyond.
Somewhere deeper in the mountain, water tapped against rock in an uneven rhythm that sounded more deliberate than natural, like the realm was keeping time to something he couldn’t see.
No candles burned in the outer halls this morning.
Veins of glowing mineral ran through the walls themselves, casting soft silver light across the cavern floor in long, branching threads.
Morning.
Or whatever passed for morning when they hadn’t seen an actual sun in well, he actually wasn’t exactly sure.
He scrubbed a hand down his jaw and glanced back over his shoulder.
The bed had been carved directly into the stone wall, deep enough that the furs piled across it caught the silver light only at the edges.
Soft gray pelts. Heavy black ones beneath.
The trolls had brought them in sometime during the night without making a sound, which Nick still found mildly insulting on principle, considering wolves were supposed to hear everything. Kara hadn’t woken once.
She lay curled on her side beneath the blankets now, one hand resting low across the curve of her stomach, dark curls spilling across the pillow. Her mouth was slightly parted. Her breathing had finally slowed to something that resembled actual rest.
His wolf settled at the sight of her. Just like that. The constant low hum under his skin went quiet.
Mine.
The thought rolled through him with enough weight to plant his boots firmer against the stone.
A week, no two. It had been at least two weeks.
Time in the Troll Realm had started slipping around the edges in ways he didn’t trust. Sleep came heavier here.
Hunger hit at random intervals, mid-conversation, halfway through a sparring drill, in the middle of the night for no reason.
The glowing crystals dimmed and brightened in cycles that almost matched a day, but not quite, and he’d stopped trying to count them.
Wadim had given up calculating elapsed time on day five, which was, in Nick’s experience, the surest sign of something supernatural being wrong.
Wadim never gave up calculating anything.
To be fair, the trolls had given him access to their records, so the historian was pretty much in heaven.
And Kara.
Nick’s chest tightened as his gaze drifted back to the curve under her hand.
There was no denying the change. The slight roundness from before had deepened into something unmistakable over the past several days.
Her breasts had grown fuller. Her face carried a soft warmth beneath her freckles that made her look stronger and more vulnerable at the same time, a combination he hadn’t known was possible until he’d seen it on her.
Even her scent had changed again. Richer now.
Threaded through with something ancient his wolf didn’t fully understand but answered to anyway, the way a compass answered north.
Protect.
The urge had taken up permanent residence under his skin. Restless. Pacing. It didn’t sleep when he slept, and it didn’t quiet when she was safe in his arms. It just paced.
Kara stirred against the blankets with a small sound and cracked one eye open.
“You’re staring again.”
Nick huffed softly. “Can you blame me?”
“Yes.” Her voice was thick with sleep as she pushed herself upright against the stone headboard, the furs sliding down to pool at her hips. “You’re being weird.”
“You claim I’m always weird.”
“Fair point.”
Her smile faded almost as soon as it formed. Her hand pressed lower against her stomach, and her brow pulled tight.
He was beside the bed before he’d consciously decided to move.
“Kara.”
“I’m fine. I mean, I’m sort of fine. This is not normal. To be progressing at the speed of light.” She waved him off too fast. “The future ninja just kicked hard enough to make me question whether my kidneys will survive this pregnancy.”
He lowered himself carefully onto the edge of the bed and slid one hand against her stomach. The movement beneath his palm hit immediately, sharp and insistent, a small foot or fist or possibly an elbow making its presence known directly under his fingertips.
His eyes widened.
“That,” Kara muttered darkly, “was your fault. She knows you’re there.”
His wolf nearly purred.
She rolled her eyes. “You like that she responds to you.” She frowned down at her stomach as though it had personally betrayed her. “Honestly, if she says ‘daddy’ first, I’m going to be personally offended for life.”
Nick leaned in and pressed his forehead gently to hers. Her hair smelled like sleep and the faint herbal soap the troll matrons had left near the basin two days ago.
“No you won’t, you’ll find it adorable.” He grinned. “I hear women find a man attractive when he’s playing with a baby.”
Her smile softened. Small. Tired around the edges. “Sure, just like men supposedly find pregnant women attractive because it means they’re fertile, or some crap like that.”
His hand slid carefully along the curve of her again. “You’re beautiful.”
“Nick,” she scolded.
“No. I mean it.” His voice dropped lower. Rougher. “Every day you look more beautiful to me.” Even if it did worry him that she was moving along in her pregnancy at a speed that was not even normal for wolves.
Something flickered across her face before she ducked behind sarcasm.
“Well, that’s convenient timing since I currently waddle when I stand up.
And who the crap waddles at . . .”, she held up her hand and counted under her breath, then shrugged, “hell, I don’t even know how far along I’m supposed to be.
But I’m pretty sure it’s not waddling time. ”
Nick shook his head at her. “You do not waddle. You’re not that big.”
“I absolutely do.”
“You walk creatively. There’s a difference.”
Kara barked a laugh that echoed softly through the chamber, bouncing off stone in a way that made it sound bigger than it was.
He needed that sound. More than air, some days.
The week had affected each of them differently.
Rachel had grown quieter, her healer’s mouth pressed into a thinner line every time someone passed through a corridor.
Gavril watched every tunnel entrance like he expected war to crawl out of it, and most days Nick agreed with him.
Zara and Wadim spent hours whispering together in the corners of shared chambers when they thought no one was paying attention.
Aphid had taken to disappearing into the deeper sections of the caverns for stretches at a time, the troll child Torvik trailing after him like an unusually feral duckling that the fae warrior pretended not to notice.
And the trolls themselves. Nick’s eyes narrowed. They had changed, too. Not toward hostility. He could’ve handled hostility. He’d been raised on hostility. Toward reverence. That part unnerved the hell out of him.
The same massive warriors who had thrown them into cages a week ago now lowered their heads respectfully whenever Kara passed in the corridors.
Troll females had started leaving small carved stone figures at the entrance to their chamber, tiny shapes Nick didn’t recognize, polished smooth, set in patterns he didn’t understand but could feel were intentional.
Even the children watched her now with wide, solemn eyes, the way kids watched something they’d been told stories about.
They acted as though the mountain itself had claimed her, which it most definitely had not, because Kara belonged to him.
A heavy knock struck the outer stone archway before he could chase that thought any further. Neither of them moved. The knock came again.
“Kara Luisa,” a deep voice rumbled from beyond the threshold. “The king requests your presence.”
Every muscle in his body locked. “How do they know that name?” That was the name the Great Luna had given his mate. No one except he and Kara knew that name.
Beside him, Kara muttered under her breath, “Maybe, they’re going to finally tell us why we’re just sitting around doing nothing. Although, nothing good ever follows the phrase ‘the king requests your presence.’ That’s just facts.”
He stood slowly from the edge of the bed. ‘You’re not going alone.”
She smirked at him. “You say that like I would ever think you’d let me go anywhere alone.”
He shrugged. “And you say that like it’s unreasonable.”
“I say that like you nearly tore a cage apart last time I stepped a few feet away from you.”
His wolf surged so hard that he felt it behind his ribs: The king demanding she leave the cage. Her face going pale even as she remained brave. Her hand flying to her stomach. The bars under his palms. He shoved the memory down hard enough to taste it in the back of his throat.
Kara’s expression softened the way it always did when she felt the shift in him through the bond, even when she didn’t have the words for what she was sensing.
She slid carefully off the bed, the furs whispering as they fell behind her, and stepped close enough to rest her palm flat against his chest. Right over his heart. Right where she always put it.
“Hey.” Her voice gentled. “I’m okay.”
“For now.” It came out before he could stop it.
Her eyes searched his face for several long seconds before she sighed. “Nick.”
“I know, yeah.” He closed his eyes briefly. The warmth of her hand stayed against his chest, steady. “I know I’m being intense.”
“You’ve always been intense.” She pressed closer to him. “I like that you’re intense. Let’s just try and keep it under control while the trolls still like us.”
“You’re carrying my child while some ancient corruption beneath this realm keeps trying to sniff you out like a bloodhound.” He opened his eyes. “I feel like intense is justified.”