Page 13 of Twisted Fangs

I force myself to meet Valen's gaze. "I... I don't know," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I'd feel... different. Triumphant, maybe."

He nods knowingly. "Revenge is a double-edged sword. It cuts both ways. What you're feeling—it's normal. You've crossed a line, one that can't be uncrossed."

A shiver runs down my spine as the reality of his words sinks in. I've taken a life, extinguished the spark that made a living, breathing being. The enormity of the act is suffocating, a burden I hadn't anticipated.

My heart pounds like a drum in my chest, a rhythm that feels both alien and oddly right. I feel sick, a nauseating cocktail of horror and an intoxicating sense of power. For the first time in my life, I've taken control, dealt out the kind of justice that only comes with a sharpened blade and a resolve of steel.

"Rhea," Valen's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. He stands up before me, his crimson eyes scanning the surrounding carnage. There's an unsettling calmness about him. But I've learned to read the subtleties of his expressions, the way his jaw clenches just a fraction when he's wrestling with his own demons. "We need to move. There will be others coming for us."

I nod, though my feet seem rooted to the blood-soaked earth.

Valen's hand closes around my arm, a gentle yet insistent tug that urges me into motion. I stumble after him, my legs regaining their strength with each step I take away from the grisly scene behind us. We move in silence, navigating the labyrinthine forest with a shared sense of urgency. The moon bathes our path in a silver glow.

After what feels like an eternity,we arrive at a small cave nestled amidst a thicket of thorny brambles. It's a makeshift hideout, one of many Valen has shown me over the past weeks. Inside, the air is cool and damp, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of my own racing thoughts.

Valen settles against the cave wall, his gaze focused on the cave's entrance. His body is relaxed, but there's a coiled tension in him, a readiness that suggests he's prepared to spring into action at a moment's notice. I lower myself to the ground across from him, my hands trembling slightly as I tuck them under my legs.

"Rhea," Valen's voice is soft now, a stark departure from the lethal warrior who had sliced through the dark elves with terrifying precision. "You did well tonight. I know it doesn't feel like it now, but you saved lives."

I lift my eyes to meet his, searching for some semblance of the satisfaction he speaks of. But all I find is a hollow emptiness that mirrors the void gnawing away at my insides. "I killedsomeone, Valen," I whisper, the words tasting like ash on my tongue. "How am I supposed to feel good about that?"

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studies me intently. "You feel exactly as you should," he replies, his voice a low rumble that resonates within the confines of our hideout. "You're not a monster, Rhea. You're a survivor. You fought back against those who have taken everything from you. There's no shame in that."

I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to wrap my mind around his words. "But how do you do it?" I ask, my voice barely more than a murmur. "How do you live with the lives you've taken?"

Valen's gaze drops to the ground, his fingers tracing the outline of a scar that mars his otherwise flawless skin. "I carry them with me," he admits, his voice heavy with centuries of sorrow and regret. "Each life is a weight on my soul, a reminder of what I've lost and what I've become. But it's also a testament to my resolve, to the promise I made to avenge my family."

His eyes meetmine once more, and there's a strange kind of warmth in them—a warmth that both comforts and unnerves me. "You're not alone in this, Rhea. We're both haunted by our pasts, by the pain and the loss. But we're in this together. And together, we'll make them pay."

His words, though simple, carry a profound truth that strikes a chord within me. I realize then that I'm not just a former slave, a mere pawn in the dark elves' twisted games. I'm a warrior, just like Valen. And while the path to vengeance is fraught with darkness and despair, I know that I no longer walk it alone. Our bond, forged in the fires of shared suffering and a burning desire for justice, has become my anchor in the storm.

"Thank you, Valen," I say, my voice steadier now, imbued with a newfound determination. "For everything. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

He offers me a small, almost imperceptible nod, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that binds us. We sit there in comfortable silence, the bond between us deepening with every passing moment. And though the future remains uncertain, I find solace in the knowledge that, for now, I am safe with Valen by my side.

10

VALEN

The fire crackles softly in the darkness. Its flickering light casts dancing shadows on the walls of our small cave. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the faintest trace of blood, a grim reminder of our night's work. I sit across from Rhea, her figure bathed in an orange glow. Her hazel eyes reflect the flames as she stares into them, lost in thought.

I watch her, my own thoughts a tumultuous sea. She's strong, I've seen it in the way she wields a blade, in the fierce determination that burns within her. Yet, she's also fragile, vulnerable in a way that stirs something within me—a protective instinct I haven't felt in centuries. Her hands, still stained with the blood of our enemies, rest limply in her lap. I can see the conflict raging inside her, the struggle to reconcile her actions with her sense of self.

I move closer and sit beside her. The stone beneath us is cold, but I scarcely notice. "You fought well tonight," I say softly. I take her hands in mine, the blood smearing on my skin as I begin to clean them with a cloth.

Rhea's gaze flickers to me, her expression hard to read. "I don't feel great about it no matter how hard I try," she confesses, her voice laced with a mix of guilt and uncertainty.

I hesitate, then reach out, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from her face. My touch lingers for a moment, and I allow myself to feel the warmth of her skin against mine. "You survived," I tell her, holding her gaze. "That's all that matters."

The air between us shifts, charged with an intensity that has nothing to do with the battle we've left behind. Her eyes meet mine again, and for a brief moment, the walls I've built around my heart begin to crumble.

I tell myself that this—whatever this is—must not interfere with our mission. Yet, I can't ignore the connection that's forming between us, nor the way it makes me feel.

For years, I've been a solitary figure, driven by hatred and a thirst for vengeance. But now, Rhea's presence has begun to change something within me. She's become more than just a protégé; she's become a part of my life, a beacon of hope in a world that I've long since written off as irredeemable.

"Valen," she says, her voice breaking the silence. "Why do you keep helping me?

I pause, considering her question. It's one I've asked myself many times.

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