Throughout the loud shaking, a few trolls had been running in, dazed and battle-weary. I kept glancing back at the tent flaps that served as the door, hoping everyone I knew and loved was safe. I wanted everyone that had followed me here to be okay, but I hadn’t been so naïve, and this tent was evidence of that.

But when my husband pushed his way in—dirty and dazed, his shirt torn, his chest scratched and bleeding—I let out a breath of relief. Knut was sitting up, and I asked Minnie to keep an eye on him before rushing over to Loki.

The rumbling and shaking had finally stopped, but I could still hear the wyrm raging.

Loki wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Are you okay?” I put my hand on his chest and tried to get a better look at him. His hair lay wildly across his forehead, and a bruise was growing dark purple on his cheek.

“Yeah, it’s only a scratch,” he said with a smirk.

Loki had been in plenty of battles in the past. Before he knew me, when he lived in the Vittra kingdom, he had been touted as the Warrior Prince. His childhood had been especially rough, but his super strength, quick wit, and endless compassion had gotten him through it.

I knew he could handle himself, that he was one of the best soldiers we had, and that we needed him out there in combat if we were to have any chance of defeating these monsters.

But I wished that, just this once, he wasn’t the King of the Common Troll. That he didn’t believe that if a war was worth fighting, he should be in it. I wished that he could stay back and stay safe, but I loved him because he knew that “safe” wasn’t where he needed to be.

Someone outside screamed, and Loki looked through the gap in the tent. He swallowed hard and said, “I’ve got to get back out there. The rockslide is over now, and there might be trolls trapped under the debris.”

“That was a rockslide?” I asked.

He nodded, then looked back down at me and put a hand gently on my cheek. “You need to go, Wendy.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if we can win this battle,” he said thickly, and his eyes were pained. “But if we have any chance of winning the war against an unstoppable enemy like a dragon, we need leaders who know what they’re doing.”

“Loki, no.” I shook my head. “I am the Queen. I am of service here.”

“Wendy.” His voice was firm, but there was a slight tremor to it. “Our son needs a mother. Not all the choices we make can be for the kingdom. Sometimes we must choose our family.”

“He needs you too,” I argued.