I push through the throng of monsters crowding the troll market’s main cobblestone street. I hate being here, and I hate that it’s a necessity. But as the king’s second, I can’t afford an ill-timed rut. I shouldn’t even have them at my age, but I’ve been without a partner for a long time.

​

I’ll do what I must to ease the aching fire and get back home. I’ll find someone compatible who doesn’t live in my kingdom or recognize me, fuck their brains out for a few days, and then go home sated and ready to work. The only one who even knows I’m here is the king, and he’ll keep my secret until he’s dead.

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That’s what brothers do. And we can't afford for anyone to know I'm even gone.

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Growling, I push past a trio of minotaurs examining a map of the monster underground city and narrowly avoid a gaggle of harpies who chirp as they flit between groups of townsfolk. 

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Pickpockets, I’m sure. I give them a sour look, although most pickpockets wouldn’t bother with me. I’m imposing enough on my own, and I don’t usually have trouble outside the fae kingdom.

​

It’s inside the kingdom that’s the problem.

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The main street is littered with overflowing shops of every sort, ranging from fabrics to baked goods and cured meats. And then there are the brothels, women and men hanging from balconies and lounging on porches, ready to satiate any need a client can conjure up.

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I give a group of ladies a quick look over, but see no one enticing. Which is sad, because my thick cock already swings heavy against my leg. Reaching down, I adjust it. I’ve only got a few hours before I’m in the thick of it. I need to be in a room with someone at that point, or I’m liable to tear the market apart to get at the nearest available pussy.

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This is ill-timed given the rumors swirling around back home, rumors that might put my brother in danger. It is what it is—I’ve got to deal with this so I can go back to my duty of watching his back.

​

Pushing past the first brothel, I pass another and another, until I come to the end of the cobblestone thoroughfare. Up ahead, the troll’s shack indicates the passage to the upper world where the humans live. Definitely don’t want to go up there with those scum.

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Expensive private suites dangle from stalactites in the giant cave’s ceiling. Too pricey for my taste, although I’ve heard time up there can be very well spent. I just can’t afford it right now.

​

Seeing nothing I want in the main road’s brothels, I run my hands through my salt and pepper hair and turn to walk the street again.

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Perhaps there’s a side street where something more selective can be found. 

 

Glancing between two meat stands, I find shops down each side, maybe a little more discerning than those for the masses on the main thoroughfare. 

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Just then, a scent hits me so damn hard my mouth waters, saliva dripping from my lips as I drag my head from side to side. That scent. Where is it coming from?

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I’ve got to fucking have it.

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A troll catches my eye, his massive green figure moving with ease as the crowd parts for him. A woman is slung over his shoulder; I assume a woman by the shapely curve of her ass. Long green skirts hide her skin from me but damn all the gods to hell and back. That ass is a thing of beauty.

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Or perhaps it’s the rut talking.

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Leaning forward, I drag big gulps of air into my lungs. It’s definitely her—she’s the source of that enticing smell. It’s woodsy and soothing, as if the forest itself is infused in her veins.

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Red hair identifies her as a witch, possibly a fall witch based on her scent.

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Coming from the fae kingdom, there’s nothing that could possibly entice me more than a witch. All that power and fight wrapped up in such a pretty little package. A growl rumbles out of my throat as my focus narrows on the troll and his prize. Shoving through the crowd, I push past irritated snorts and panicked gasps until I’m close to the troll.

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I step into the street, right in front of him as I give him an assessing look.

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“How much?” I point at the woman, who struggles to push herself upright, earning her a swat on the ass, which she yowls about. 

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My cock immediately responds to her resistance, leaping in my pants as it hardens down the leg of my trousers. I love a spitfire, and the increasing volume of her shrieking leads me to believe I’ve found one. 

​

The woman shoots upright, using the troll’s long green braid for leverage as she attempts to right herself, only to be tossed further over his shoulder where she can’t find purchase.

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Her heavy, dirty skirts ride up, showing me soft, pale legs. The troll runs his hand up the back of her knee, teasing at what lies beneath her skirts.

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“I’m taking her to registration,” he states with a sly smile. “She had no fare so she’s in my debt.”

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“I’ll double the fare right now,” I bark back. “Give her to me so I might make her an attractive offer.”

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“I’m not a trinket to be bargained over,” the woman shouts, beating at the trolls back before gazing up at me from underneath his big arm.

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Gods above, that red hair. She’s a stunner, even upside down, sea-blue eyes sparking with irritation as she grips the troll’s belt and shoots me an angry look.

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Oh yes, she’ll do quite nicely. Assuming she agrees. I'll pay whatever she wants.

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The troll lifts his chin, sensing my eagerness, and holds out a hand. “Ill negotiate on her behalf since she owes me. Four times her fare and provide her extra when you’re finished. Otherwise she’ll never be able to cross.”

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I’m surprised at his request, which will grant her enough coins to leave the underground market and return to the human world above, if she wishes to. Or travel anywhere through the Hall of Portals I came through to get here. 

​

She seems equally shocked when he pulls her up over his shoulder and sets her on the ground, wild red waves flying as she’s righted. She huffs but gives him a look. “Thank you for saving me, although selling me to the highest bidder is hardly how I imagined my day would end.”

​

“Better than gutted like a fish,” he counters, one black brow sliding upward as he takes the coins from my hand. “Or eaten by hounds or burnt alive.” He withdraws a purple troll stone from his pocket. “I got you a good deal. But I'm keeping this and do you know why?”

​

Blue eyes slide back to me, her gaze narrowing. She looks back at him and shakes her head no.

​

He spins the stone in the low light. “They’re for building new bridges…you need one to start because they’re blessed by the troll gods. And one day, if you come upon the bridge created with a stone once in your possession, you’ll be able to pass without payment.”

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When her mouth drops open, he reaches out and presses it closed with his forefinger, eyes softening as he looks at her.

“Perhaps, one day, witch, this stone might save your life.”

​

"Enough," I bark. "Witch, come with me if you please. I'll double what I negotiated with the troll but I need company for a night or two." When I reach my hand out for hers, she plants both of hers on her thick hips and gives me a quick scan.

​

The way she peruses my body has precum leaking sticky and hot against my thigh.

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"Witch," I warn with a deep, needy growl. I'm on the very edges of simply tossing her over my shoulder and foregoing any sort of consent. Although, what I want, what I realllly want, is for us both to enjoy this."

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"I'll make it worth your while," I reiterate.

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She looks up at the troll, who simply puts a hand on her back and pushes her toward me.

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"You can thank me later, witch. For now, go with this fae and get your money."

​

Another beleaguered sigh leaves her as she crosses her arms. But after an interminable minute where I think she might actually say no, she lifts her red brows and looks at me. "Fine, but—"

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But nothing. Stepping forward, I drop low and toss her over my shoulder. It's time to get out of here.