Page 7 of King's Obsession

He sensed interest even as his troll didn’t move, his mouth grazing his skin. “A gift? What would I need a gift for when I have the greatest gift of all in my arms?”

The words wrapped around his soul, leaving Asmodeus with an ache in his eyes as he blinked, hating that he would have to leave. “So, you can see me, and I you when I return to my realm.” It sounded so feeble when the emotions between them were there, zinging around them.

The enormous chest pressed to his back trembled but for a second. “Is that how it is to be?”

He swallowed hard enough his throat clicked as he worked to force the words out of his mouth. “For now.” To himself, he swore it would not be forever, even when he couldn’t utter the words aloud.

“Then show me how your gift works,” he replied gruffly, his arms tightening their hold.

Asmodeus gave into his need and laid his head on the large shoulder. Bringing his hand closer, he took a crystal and laid one on his troll's palm. As he did, he sent out hope for his historians to work fast to get all the facts, and a way to know he could protect his troll in his realm. Because wrapped in those arms as he was, he’d do anything to protect him. That was all that mattered.

Tell him that…

But Asmodeus didn’t dare. Using his lips for other things was so much easier in that moment. And for the many more moments that were to come.

Chapter Four

Dougal

Present Day

Two weeks later, Dougal was wrestling with his feelings and his troll. The demon had come twice more—the visits were getting more frequent. The passion burned between them as hot as it ever was, even more, in Dougal’s opinion, although after the demon had gone, Dougal was still left with empty arms and an ache in his heart that just wouldn’t ease up.

There were times when Dougal was out among his trees when he tried to convince himself that those increased visits meant something between them was changing. That his demon was feeling the urgency to be with him, and wanted him with the same longing Dougal felt every second of every day.

His troll was a patient being. Only someone with infinite patience could watch as rocks formed slowly into mountains, before eroding into sand once more. That wasn’t something that happened overnight.

Seeing trees grow from a tiny seed into the tall, majestic masterpieces they became, sometimes centuries later, took a masterclass in patience and the troll excelled at it.

Back in the beginning, Dougal believed that patience was his secret weapon—that one trait he had that would see him through the painful journey that the demon had led him on.

But now, in the war between patience and pain, the pain was winning. Dougal spent so much time alone. His mind was finding it more and more difficult to reconcile his need for the one person in existence who would complete him, and the pain his need and the accompanying rejection caused him.

His screams across the ocean were valid.

He damn well deserved more than the crumbs his demon gave him.

Dougal knew this, even so, his troll side preached patience. That their demon was learning more about blissful ones. He was just waiting for confirmation from his academics.

“Confirmation about what, exactly,” Dougal had raged in his hut just the day before, confident no one could hear his one-sided argument with his troll side. “He knows about blissful ones. He sees it in his own demons. Dakata. Merihem. Scott. Christa. What can the scrolls possibly tell him that the demons he rules haven’t done through their own actions already?”

He’s just confused. Scared. Worried. His father’s death…

“His father died centuries ago, and if our demon hasn’t processed that grief by now, then that’s on him for not coming tousabout it.” Dougal thumped his chest. “He does not trust us with the fears you claim he has. He doesn’t trust us with anything—not to protect ourselves or to care for him—he does not trust in our bond. Our mate trusts nothing and no one. How much more are we expected to endure?”

It's hard for us both, but we’ve waited this long…

“Answer me this, then. What are we waiting for?” Dougal gestured angrily at the stone sitting where it always did next to his pillow. “You’ve seen the life he leads the same as I. You know the way he behaves the same way I do. His academics will never find the answers he’s looking for, despite centuries of seeking through their damn scrolls, because they fear him.

“They fear the ruler who set them the question. They don’t even understand the context of his half-assed question, so they do what academics who don’t know the answers do best. They dither. They keep dithering in the hopes their king will forget he ever asked the question in the first place. He’s looking for his answers in the wrong place. It’s always been there, if not with us, then with the demons who’ve found their blissful ones since…”

The realization hit them both at the same time. Thattheywere the answer their demon had been seeking and if they were the answer, and they were still being rejected, still relegated to the shadows of their demon’s life…

Dougal gasped and then groaned, doubled over in pain as his troll finally saw what Dougal had been trying to say. His shift came unbidden, his troll side needing his voice. His bellow shook the walls, almost bringing down the ceiling, and yet through it all, when Dougal felt the pain and shock from the forest and the life around him, he and his troll did their best to hide it from those they protected.

Their pain—the pain they had tried to ignore and keep at bay for centuries—had the power to level the forest and all who dwelled there, and Dougal would not do that.

Neither would his troll side, because when it was all said and done, the troll and his human half were one and the same.

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