Her Troll Defender (Beastly Falls)

Chapter 2

Loth

“M ums? Are you sure?” I keep my voice calm, even though I want to yell at Rook outside of Midnight Brew Tea Shop. Mums for his flowerpots outside the shop are so cliché for fall. And they aren’t native. “What about some native plants? Andropogon gerardii is lovely this time of year. And they are vibrant even after the first frost.”

“Mums. For my Mummy theme decorations,” Rook replies. I make the note in my book, tell him when I’ll have them ready, and leave. As fast as I can. No matter how good his tea is, the vampire gives me the chills. Making him mad because of some flowers is not on my to-do list this century.

Back at my greenhouses, I tag the plants that will be ready for delivery next week, deadhead some blooms, and head outside to the tree nursery. The trees are my favorite. They whisper about the coming autumn, about being ready to sleep for a good long time. I sigh. Winter is always so much lonelier than the rest of the year.

There’s a rustling on the wind from the forest. An intruder. My heart beats faster. Intruders are unwelcome in my part of the forest. I’ve heard the tales from the forest maples and spruces of tractors and chainsaws in the distance. Getting closer. My pulse quickens as I imagine tearing the limbs from anyone who dares to cut down the trees in my forest.

Sniffing the air, I take off toward the river. I’ve been so busy prepping the flowers for the town’s new plant boxes, that I haven’t been patrolling the river as of late. Civic pride in Beastly Falls. That’s what Sylvia Haasenfrau, the mayor, said when she pretty-pleased me into growing an abundance of mums and pansies. I tried to get her to embrace native plants—I’ve been working on my ferns and grasses all year—but she just wrinkled her nose at me. She’s lucky the seeds I found buried at the bottom of my seed cabinet germinated at all. Now I’ll need to save seeds from all these mums for next year, unless I can convince her to do something different.

At the river, I don’t see anything, other than the water level being a little low, but that’s fairly normal for late summer. The water is clear and bright as it burbles amongst the rocks. In the distance, I can see the bridge, my bridge. My home tucked neatly underneath. Thinking of the stew that’s simmering in the pot makes my stomach rumble. Not yet. I need to find the intruder first.

There. A whiff. But it isn’t unpleasant. In fact, under a layer of fear, I smell something floral, exotic. Definitely not a native plant. I let my nose lead me downriver to find the owner of the delicious scent.

This area is tricky. The boundary of the forest and our town is invisible. I’ve run up against it too many times to count. And as weird as it sounds to say, I know everyone in town rolls their eyes when I, the resident troll, declare how painful the boundary is, I hate running into the invisible line. It’s a sharp pain straight into my heart. Reminding me that I can’t leave. Can’t protect the forest I love. Can’t find love that promises not to leave me.

Two things stop me in my tracks. First, I see the intruder. She wanders around, stumbling, acting like she doesn’t know which way is up. It’s curious. The boundary should have kept her out, right? I know Rook and Asa and Xavier say their mates made it through the boundary, but that was on the main road.

Her black hair is glossy in a ponytail, sticking out of a ball cap with the logo of Grimm Axe Lumber Company, my nemesis. Safety yellow vest illuminates her curves. Can of orange spray paint that makes my eyes see red. I know what that spray paint is used for—to mark the biggest trees to be cut down.

The reality of watching my beloved forest be marked and cut, and being helpless to do anything about rips through my body and heart. My roar shakes the leaves on the trees and loosens pebbles amongst the rocks of the riverbed. The intruder shrieks, jumps, spins around looking for the source of the roar—me.

And then the second thing happens. Something inside me knows that the exotic floral scent is from her—the intruder—and my heart does a back flip off a cliff, base jumping to its new future and fortune of wanting to do anything necessary to make her happy. All the while, my mind is screaming NO.

There are no thoughts in my mind as I take off running at her. I have to chase her away. From the forest. From the town. From me.

I feel the snarl on my face. The ugliness that I never let out. Protect. Protect . My heart pounds out the word with each step.

She takes off running, following the riverbank. Good. A little farther. I want to destroy the paint can in her hand, but I don’t want to hurt her. A swish of orange catches my eye, and I see a big X on the tree beside me. Stopping, I put my hand on it. This tree is on my side of the boundary. A fresh wave of anger fills me and I take off again. She’s already crossed the invisible boundary line for Beastly Falls.

That’s when I see her fly backward, toward me, and land with a thump in a nest of ferns. My eyes dart back and forth to where she was to where she is. Damnit. She’s hit the boundary. And she’s stuck, just like me.

“Go.” I don’t have to tell her twice. She climbs to standing, holding her head, and lumbers away from me. The wall stops her again. This time with slightly less force. Turning to face me, I can see the bruise on her forehead forming, tears streaming down her cheek from her fearful eyes. I’ve scared her. She’s trapped. It’s my fault.

Panting, I stare at her staring at me. I know I’ve made myself a monster to her. And now she’s stuck here in Beastly Falls. That’s what I’ll do. I take her to town. They can figure out what to do with her.

Close enough to touch her, I reach out my hand in what I think is a friendly gesture. The intruder faints. I catch her in my arms. She’s warm, soft, so very human. My heart betrays me again. I can’t leave her here in the forest, lost and confused, possibly with a concussion from the damn town’s boundary.

With her scent overwhelming my nostrils, I carry her home.