two weeks later

“Again,” Alaric commands. “You are distracted, Merri.”

​

The troll cave under his bridge is where we always practice my magic so I don’t inadvertently hurt someone. I’ve come a long way with the gentle troll’s guidance. At this point I can summon my magic at will and not just in, well, the heat of the moment.

Which leads me bback to thinking about the fae and his giant body slotted between my thighs.

​

The fae whose name I never did find out. Ugh. Although he never found out mine either so perhaps I’m better off without him.

I curl my magic in my palm and then direct it at a pot sitting across the big, open room from me. We’re using Alaric’s store room for practice since one end of it is entirely empty.

​

I miss the pot entirely, a black scorch marring the wall.

​

Alaric sighs and tosses down the rag he was using to clean his knife. 

​

“By the gods, witch, you should have hit the pot by pure luck at least once.”

​

“I seem to remember you mentioning something about being an excellent teacher,” I grouse, running both hands through my wild red waves. I don’t bother to cover the color up here in Underground City. I’m no more special or curious than any other monster, and it is fucking glorious not to be an outcast, not to be looked at as other.

​

“I can teach those who wish to be taught,” Alaric corrects gently. “You’re thinking of him. I can tell.”

​

I sigh. It’s a conversation we’ve had several times in the last few days. The truth is, my mind is always on the big fae I spent those days with, to the point where I’m considering trying to find him. I don’t even know if he’d want to see me, but I feel I should try. My magic is frustrated and anxious, and that makes it even harder to control because I’m distracted. It is pent up tight like an overful bucket.

​

A handsome troll shows up in the doorway, Alaric’s best friend Rodric. He gives me a cheeky wink. “There’s someone here for Alaric.”

​

I roll my eyes at him, he’s always teasing me. If my mind weren’t so squarely on the fae male, perhaps I’d give Rodric a chance. As it is, my magic is sullen and irritable, connected to my moods.

​

Tossing one last ball of magic at the pot, I let out a sigh when it swings wide, knocking a sizable chunk out of Alaric’s wall.

He slaps the back of my head in warning as he stalks past me and out into the troll tunnel, heading for the main street.

​

Nobody is allowed in the tunnel without talking to him, so I imagine someone requires passage.

​

I can’t hear anything for a few moments, but then Rodric pops his head back into the practice room, crossing his arms as I toss yet another drop of magic and watch it fall flat on the floor in front of me.

​

He scoffs. “You’ll never get anywhere with that level of effort, witch. Best to rely on your good looks for success in this life.” He’s always needling about how covetous trolls are of red hair, so my fiery locks are a source of many value-based jokes.

​

I flip it over my shoulder, giving him a saucy look as he hooks a thumb in the direction of the market. “Alaric needs you.”

​

“Me?”

“You.”

“Why?”

​

Rodric rolls his eyes and stalks away, not bothering to answer. I consider not joining them just to tease him, but he and Alaric have been so understanding with me these last weeks, and I’ve been a less than stellar student.

​

Irritated at myself, I leave the dark room and pass quickly up the troll tunnel back toward the market. Rounding a bend, my heart leaps up into my throat. There, in the bright doorway, stands the fae. His handsome face breaks out into a big smile when he sees me, and then I take off running toward him.

Merri

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