Page 5 of Her Immortal Protector

"Straighten your back," she instructs. "Feel the connection between your shoulders and the base of your wings."

I try to follow her guidance, but it's like learning to walk all over again. My wings refuse to cooperate, flapping erratically and sending a gust of wind through the room. A vase topples off a shelf, shattering on the floor.

"Shit," I curse. "Sorry."

Nyx waves off my apology. "It's just a vase. Focus."

She guides me through some more basic movements before giving me a rare smile. "Good. I think it's time for a break."

I follow Nyx out of the cabin, my new senses immediately overwhelmed by the night. The darkness isn't dark at all - I can see every detail of the forest around us with crystal clarity. The scents of pine, earth, and something wild and unfamiliar fill my nostrils.

We approach a clearing where other vrakken gather around a crackling fire. I can instantly feel their magic. Their pale skin gleams in the firelight, long hair flowing in the breeze. And they all have wings like mine. I try not to stare.

"Sit," Nyx commands, gesturing to an empty spot.

I lower myself carefully, still unused to my new body. The others watch me with curiosity, like they too aren't too used to seeing others.

Nyx takes her place at the head of the circle. Her presence commands attention, her black eyes reflecting the flames.

"It's time you learned our history," she begins, her voice carrying easily through the night air. "Not too long ago, I was human, like you once were. And as a human, I was vulnerable. I was attacked, left for dead near an ancient stone circle on the darkest night of the year."

She pauses, her gaze distant. "But death didn't come. Instead, I was... Changed. Gifted with power beyond imagination as my blood spilled into the Stonehenge like an offering."

Nyx goes on to describe her transformation, how she felt something rip through her body. "It was painful, but it also healed me. And since, the magic hasn't appeared again. Just for that night, it rippled through the universe, touching Earth for a brief, powerful moment."

"We have magic?" Someone breathed next to me.

Nyx only nods. "And immortality. Nothing can kill us but a god." Murmurs start up at that, at the protest from different theologies here. "When I became the first of our kind, our god appeared to me, calling himself Akeldama. He taught me how to create more of our kind, to build an army before the next solstice."

I listen, fascinated and horrified, as she describes how she Changed humans into vrakken. "I've been across the countries, moving from England and through Europe until I've landed here, in Greece."

As she says it, my eyes sweep around the group. Despite our pale skin and sharpened features, I can still see the different ethnicities here, though it's more muffled.

"But why?" I look toward the speaker, a pretty woman with fiery hair. "Why do you need to make more of us?"

"Because Akeldama told me to share his gift." I looked down at myself, wondering if it was even a gift. "And I do as my god tells me to."

"But we're…we're kidnapping them," someone else said, clearly feeling the same guilt and turmoil I am.

"We are giving them a greater purpose," Nyx explains.

"How many?" one man says. He looks more steady, more in control. I wonder if he was one of the first one's she Changed. "How many humans have you Made?"

Nyx arched an eyebrow, no remorse on her face. "How many have I Changed or how many have survived?"

My gut churned. I didn't even consider that some people wouldn't be surviving. But the Change was brutal and hard. Of course not everyone would survive.

As if to prove her point, a piercing scream shatters the night. My head whips around, searching for the source. At the edge of the clearing, a figure stumbles forward, clawing desperately at their throat.

"Fuck," I whisper, my enhanced vision capturing every horrific detail.

The human's skin smokes, angry red blisters erupting across their flesh. Their eyes bulge, filled with terror and agony. I can hear their frantic heartbeat, smell the acrid stench of burning flesh.

My stomach churns as the person falls to their knees, body convulsing violently. Their screams turn to choked gurgles, blood frothing at their lips. The Change is failing, their body rejecting the transformation.

I want to look away, but I can't. My new senses force me to witness every excruciating moment. The human's bones crack and splinter, trying to reshape themselves but failing. Their skin splits open in places, unable to contain the internal changes.

The convulsions grow weaker, the human's movements becoming erratic. With a final, rattling gasp, they collapse. The clearing falls silent, save for the crackling fire.

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