Her Troll Defender (Beastly Falls)

Chapter 11

Loth

L iving on the outskirts of Beastly Falls always seemed like a poetic kind of fate. The troll, alone, by the bridge, in a rock house. The guard. The loner. Even though the folks of Beastly Falls are making the most of their (our) situation, it feels fake to me at times. To pretend that we aren’t all miserable, alone, trapped, waiting for a magical wand to wave all our problems away. It’s too painful.

Have I missed out making friends? Yes. Have I missed all the news about new people coming to town? Finding their fated mates? Also, yes. But would I have believed it if I hadn’t experienced it myself? No.

Walking through Beastly Falls, Jasmine holding my hand, makes the whole town sparkle in a new light. People smile at us. We smile back. It feels…like home.

I wait on Esme’s porch while Jasmine gets her new clothes from her room. Esme sits across from me and stares at me. “Is she sure?” I’m taken aback by her question.

“Don’t you think you should ask Jasmine this question?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Esme sighs. “She said she was. I suppose congratulations are in order. Does this mean we will see more of you?”

“Thank you. I don’t know what it means, except that Jasmine is my fated mate. And I’m very happy.” At that, Jasmine walks out with her shopping bag from Mortal Threads.

“Trolls. Can’t live with them. Can probably live without them,” Esme says, smiling at us both, but a little exasperated.

I feel I should be offended at her statement, but it’s hard to be upset about anything when Jasmine stretches out on my lap, wraps one arm around my neck, and smiles radiantly up at me. “I know what you mean, Esme. Fortunately for me, I want to live with him.” My chest puffs with pride.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” I say as we step off Esme’s porch.

“My pleasure. Want to take bets on who’s next?” She waggles her wolfy eyebrows at us.

“No thanks, not the betting kind,” I say.

We grab lunch at Moonlit Café and then wander back through town toward our path as the sun sets.

“Loth! Word through the grapevine is this your mate! Congratulations seem to be in order.” Dominik, the dryad, looks Jasmine over, his eyes landing on our hands linked together.

“Um—well---Jasmine has the choice—”

“Hi, I’m Jasmine, Lothario’s mate. And you are?” Jasmine pulls her hand away from mine and thrusts it out to shake the dryad’s branchy hand.

“Just someone who is intrigued by this idea of fated mates. I’m still not sure I believe.”

“That makes two of us, until yesterday.” I shrug.

“Hmm, seems times are changing. Speaking of, what do you think about helping me decorate for the autumn equinox?”

That sounds like the worst idea ever, but Jasmine ooo’s at him and brainstorms plant and décor ideas for his equinox gathering at the yoga studio. I like the idea of Jasmine twisted into bendy poses. However, I do not like the idea of those poses being with Dominik. Sighing, I gather Jasmine back into my arms and say our goodbyes.

“I’ll stop in later this week,” Jasmine says as I lead her farther down the road from Dominik. He gives a leafy wave.

“What was all that? We were having a nice conversation. I thought you’d want me to get involved. And the stammering? ‘I have a choice.’” She mocks me with a deep voice. It makes me laugh, despite the seriousness of my thoughts.

“Well, you do. And I do.” I shrug, not wanting to admit my insecurities or jealousies.

“Still? Even after this morning? And this afternoon? You think I’m going to walk away from you? Not a chance. You’re stuck with me now. You’re my home.” She leans up on tiptoes to kiss my cheek. Fireworks go off in my mind. Trumpets sound.

“You know,” I say, trying for nonchalant as I whisper close to her ear. “I think we should go home , so I can claim you for myself. Again.” My thumb finds the space between her shirt and shorts and rubs tiny circles against her smooth skin.

I watch Jasmine’s cheeks blush as people wave to us and she waves back. “I need you to stop this,” she whispers back.

“Me? I’m not doing anything. Just walking down the road with my fated mate.” There’s a slight chuckle in my voice. It’s hard to contain the multitudes of happiness that I feel. The relief that fills me knowing that she’s mine.

“Lothario,” she says sternly. The forested path back home is in sight now. Her pace picks up just a little.

“I like it when you call my by my full name,” I purr at her.

“You’re insatiable.” Her word is stern, but she giggles and runs away from me, toward home.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, catching up to her and scooping her into my arms. “Jasmine Ghalib, I love you. Always.”

“Lothario Brucke, I love you, too.”