Page 2 of Glory Troll

“It’s really pretty here,” he said. His English was almost perfect, with the cutest tiny Scandinavian lilt.

So rude.

In my thirty-two years, I’d never caught feelings like that before. Instantaneous. Intense. Igniting. This was much more Noah’s style than mine, and yet I stared at this Scandinavian hockey god like a darned teenager.

“It is.”But bloody hell if you aren’t the prettiest thing around here.I gave him ahopefullyprofessional smile.

“We have a few days off during our camp. I can’t wait to explore the area.”

The area? Like, my bed?

“If you need an overview of POIs, maps, or any information, I’ll be delighted to help you.”

“POIs?” He cocked his eyebrows at me.

“Points of interest,” I explained.

“Oh yes, I’m definitely interested in detailed information on the points of interest.” His eyes dragged down my body, and he had the audacity to bite his lip. “Thank you, Ollie.” With a tiny wink, he pushed away from the counter, took his bag in hand, and left for the stairs.

Two

Bo

Ihad grown up with my grandmother’s stories about our kind. Troll lore was rich, funny, occasionally brutal, and fascinating. And it was full of talk about the mate bond. Trolls mated once and for life.

The way our magic supposedly worked had never ceased to amaze me, but until this very moment I had thought they were mostly just nice stories you told children at bedtime. My grandmother had tried her best to make me believe in love, and I had.Sort of. But I didn’t think it was for me.

Then I had set eyes on the pretty human man with his warm scent, full beard, and elegant hands. And I knew.It’s him.Mysoul recognised him as my mate, as the other half of my heart, as my grandmother had called it.

And fuck if the rest of me didn’t recognise him, too. I woke to him, every cell in my body aware of his presence, his nearness, and full of the urge to touch him. I wanted to learn everything there was to know about Oliver Bright.

Turning my back on him sucked, but knowing that his gaze hung on my ass as I made my way upstairs made me feel marginally better.

My room was a minimalist space with cosy touches that reminded me of my flat in Veitsreuth. Once I had unpacked my clothes, I wanted to go exploring for a bit before we headed to lunch and then had our first mental and leadership session this afternoon.

Coach Jerke had been so stoked about the chance to train at the state-of-the-art facility Blue Kraken built near a village twenty minutes from Lone Fox Distillery. They were a Scottish hockey charity run by two former pro players.

They selected us, one of Germany’s best teams, to host our training camp there. The kids the charity supported would join us for three days near the end of the month. This was an experience we were all looking forward to.

I left everything behind and just took my keys. I’d send my sister a few pictures later, or maybe call her, but I needed some vitamin S first. As soon as we arrived on the estate, I’d spotted a small forest behind the cluster of buildings…Skogen, the forest, always called my name.

I arrived back downstairs to find the guest house’s hall deserted, and I felt my lips pull into a pout.Shame. I would have loved to see him again, and again, and again. Preferably as he was coming undone around me.

Damn. Since when are you just thinking with your dick, Bo?

I followed the path toward the forest, glad no one of my team was around. When I sorted through my feelings, I was best left alone.

The asphalt soon changed into a deer path that led me along a bubbling stream through the trees. They bowed over my head like old friends greeting me back in their midst.

We Forest Trolls might have adapted to modern life, but our roots lay here, covered by Milky Fairy Moss, and buried deep in the soft earth. I pulled off my smart boots and socks, depositing them on the side of the path so I could pick them up on my way back, rolled my trousers up to my knees and waded through the stream.

Pine needles soon clung to my wet toes as I wove through the woods.This is where I belong.

Not long after that, I came to a little clearing; the ground covered in dark green moss dotted all over with tiny white flowers. I lay down, staring at the patch of sky framed by the treetops, and let everything my grandmother had ever told me come forth like the animals did. The bugs and worms I knew were there, the birds going about their business, entirely unbothered by me.They know I would never hurt them.And even a deer passing by the clearing without sparing me a glance.

With my batteries charged and feeling way more grounded, I got up after about an hour, and cut back through the trees until I reached the stream. I was about to wade back through it when I spotted something else nestled against one of the tree trunks. Tiny mushrooms with purple caps. Wood Blewits…here, of all places?

If that wasn’t a good omen, then I didn’t know what was. I picked a few, careful not to destroy the mycelium so they would just grow again and replace the ones I’d taken.

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