Page 24 of Twisted Fangs

I glare at him, saying nothing. My reputation precedes me, and I know they expect me to be the ruthless Vrakken warrior of legend.

Rhea's hand tightens around mine, her fear a palpable thing. I can feel her trembling, but there's a fire in her eyes that tells me she won't go down without a fight.

"You think you can defeat us?" the dark elf taunts. "You're outnumbered and outmatched."

I bare my teeth in a silent snarl, my gaze never leaving his. "We'll see about that," I say, my voice steady despite the pain.

Rhea steps up beside me, her chin held high. "We have nothing to lose," she declares, her soft voice carrying an edge of steel.

The dark elves laugh, a cruel, grating sound that sets my teeth on edge. But I can see the flicker of uncertainty in their eyes. They know we're dangerous, even at our weakest.

"Very well," the leader says, drawing his sword. "Let's see how well you dance with death."

I draw my own weapon, the familiar weight of it in my hand a small comfort. Rhea readies herself, her grip on her dagger sure and steady. We stand together, united in our resolve to fight until the very end.

A cold smile spreads across another dark elf’s face, his eyes gleaming with malice. “You’ve caused us a lot of trouble, Vrakken. But it ends here,” he hisses.

Anger flares within my chest and I charge at him. But my body betrays me, the pain in my side flaring up like an inferno. I suddenly collapse to my knees and my sword slips from my grasp. The world spins and the faces of the dark elves in front of me blur. Their laughter is a bitter melody in my ears.

They close in on me quickly and drag me to my feet. I thrash in their grip, but my strength is gone, sapped by the remnants ofpoison still in my veins. I’m helpless, and the realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

Rhea is captured as well, her wrists bound in chains. She fights against them with a ferocity that would make any warrior proud. Her eyes meet mine, and I see the fire in them dim slightly, replaced by a haunting resignation.

“I’ve failed you,” I whisper, more to myself than her.

The journeyto the elf noble's manor is a blur of pain and regret. Upon our arrival, they drag us down into the dungeon. The cold, damp stones are a stark reminder of our precarious predicament.

Rhea and I are chained to opposite walls, the heavy manacles biting into our flesh. The darkness of the dungeon is oppressive, a tangible weight that presses down on us.

I watch Rhea through the darkness, my enhanced vision allowing me to see her clearly despite the gloom.

For centuries, I've relied on no one but myself, yet this former slave risked everything to save me.

"You should have left me behind," I say, my voice rough with emotion I can't quite suppress.

She shifts in her chains, those fierce hazel eyes finding mine. "Like you left me in the forest that day?" she counters.

The parallel strikes me silent. My chest tightens with an unfamiliar warmth. In all my years as a warrior, as a lord, no one has shown such loyalty without expecting anything in return. The realization hits me hard - I owe this woman more than just my life.

"Thank you," I manage, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. "For not giving up on me when you could have saved yourself."

"We're in this together," she replies simply, and despite our dire situation.

My mind soon races with plans of escape, but each one crumbles to dust as I remember the chains that bind us, the guards that stand watch outside our cell.

I close my eyes, trying to summon the strength that has carried me through centuries of battle and bloodshed. But it’s elusive, a phantom that dances just beyond my reach. I am a Vrakken, a creature of power and darkness, yet here I am, defeated and chained like a common criminal.

I slump against the cold dungeon wall, the chains rattling with my movement. The wound in my side throbs, a constant reminder of my failure. Centuries of careful planning, of staying one step ahead, and now here I am - chained like a common prisoner. But it's not my capture that tears at my soul - it's hers.

"I should have known better," I growl into the darkness. "Should have sensed the trap."

"Valen, don't," Rhea's voice comes from across the cell, steady despite our circumstances.

My fists clench, the manacles biting into my wrists. "I trained you to fight, to survive, and instead I led you straight back to them," I mutter. The words taste bitter in my mouth. "Everything I touch turns to ash."

"That's not true-" she replies.

"Isn't it?" I cut her off, my voice sharp with self-loathing. "I was supposed to protect you, and now you're back in chains. Just like before."

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