Kara’s fingers closed hard around his forearm.“Nick.”
The stone beneath them pulsed again.This time the walls answered.
A low groan rolled through the mountain itself, deep enough that fine dust sifted down from the ceiling overhead in a thin, drifting curtain.The carved stone figures at the entrance rattled against the floor where they sat.
Nick’s hand found the small of Kara’s back and stayed there as they started for the doorway.
Kara knewsomething was wrong before they made it ten steps into the corridor.
The trolls were moving too fast.
Not panicked.Trolls didn’t strike her as creatures prone to panic, mostly because she suspected their species had collectively decided several centuries ago that panic was beneath them, right alongside small talk and indoor voices.But there was urgency in the way the massive warriors pushed through the cavern halls, shoulders rolling, jaws set, their heavy boots grinding against stone hard enough to send dull vibrations through the floor and up into the soles of her feet.A few carried weapons she hadn’t seen before–enormous axes etched with symbols that pulsed faintly blue beneath the silver mineral light running through the walls, the glow rising and falling in time with something she didn’t want to think too hard about.
And every single troll they passed looked directly at her stomach.
Kara fought the urge to tug the cloak tighter around herself.
Nope.Didn’t love that.Didn’t love that even a little.
It wasn’t the kind of staring she was used to.It wasn’t lecherous, or hostile, or even particularly curious.It was the kind of staring that made her feel like a relic being escorted past worshippers, and considering her most important job had been as a waitress, and her biggest decisions had been should I go home to the asshole foster parents or sleep in the park, this whole “revered carrier of awesome baby” angle was sitting weird in her chest.
She made a mental note to add it to her growing list of things therapy could not fix.
Nick stayed half a step ahead of her as they moved through the winding corridors, his body angled just enough to shield her without blocking her path.His arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him, his hand never left the small of her back.The warmth of it bled through the heavy fabric of her cloak, steady and grounding, an anchor against the strange unease pulling tight and low in her stomach–or maybe it was more like unease and a tiny future gymnast currently practicing combat maneuvers against her internal organs.
The baby shifted.Hard.Kara sucked in a sharp breath and pressed a hand instinctively against the curve beneath the cloak, fingers splayed wide.
Nick slowed instantly.“What?”
“Your daughter is trying to escape through my ribcage.”
His hand slid from her back to her stomach before she’d finished the sentence, concern flashing across his face.The expression softened the second the baby kicked again beneath his palm, the sharpness in his eyes melting into something Kara had only ever seen on him since the night they’d found out about the pregnancy.
“She’s strong already.”
Kara snorted softly.“Fantastic.I’m growing a tiny warrior princess with violent tendencies.”
“Given her mother, that tracks.”
She shot him a look.“To be fair, the stabbing was justified.”
His mouth twitched at the corner.“You cut up an ancient elf king with a fae blade.”
“Again,” she said, very carefully, very deliberately, “justified.”
“I’m not arguing.It’s sexy as hell.”
“You sound like you’re arguing.”
“I sound impressed.”
“I can’t decide if that should be disturbing or not.”
Another sharp kick landed low enough to make her wince and flatten her hand against the spot.
“Okay,” she muttered, glaring downward at her own stomach as though that had ever once worked on anyone in her family line.“You are entirely too tiny to be throwing elbows with this much confidence.”
The baby kicked again, lighter this time, almost smug.
