Page 22 of Twisted Fangs

The pain in her words is a dagger to my heart, a stark reminder of what's at stake. I try to speak, to offer some semblance of comfort, but my lips won't form the words. Myvision is narrowing, the world reduced to a single point of light—Rhea's hazel eyes, flecked with gold and filled with unshed tears.

And then, everything goes black.

16

RHEA

Blood drips from my blade as I slash through another dark elf, his shocked expression forever frozen on his face. My muscles scream in protest, but I can't stop—not with Valen down. The arrow jutting from his side glints with an unnatural sheen. Poison.

"Come on, you bastards," I snarl, spinning to face three more attackers. They circle me like wolves, but I've learned from the best. I feint left, drawing one in close enough to gut him. His companions hesitate—just long enough for me to duck behind a tree.

I grab a handful of dirt, waiting for the perfect moment. The first elf rounds the trunk, and I fling the soil into his eyes. His howl of pain cuts short as my blade finds his throat. The last one turns to flee, but an expertly thrown dagger—one of Valen's lessons—catches him in the spine.

"Valen!" I cry out. I scramble to his side, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. His skin burns with fever, the poison working fast. I loop his arm over my shoulder, but his weight nearly crushes me. "Don't you dare die on me," I whisper.

The cave looms ahead—our emergency shelter. Every step is agony as my shoulders strain under his weight. Blood—his blood—makes my grip slippery. I stumble, but catch myself, and push forward.

"Just... a little... further," I pant, dragging him inside. My arms give out as we clear the entrance, and he slumps against me. "Stay with me, Valen. Please," I plead.

The cave is a cold, dark embrace, but it's a sanctuary—one of the few we have left. Valen's unconscious form weighs heavily in my arms, his lifeblood pooling beneath him. My hands are sticky with it, the metallic tang filling my nostrils as I press down on the wound with a piece of torn cloth.

The cloth is soakedthrough in moments, the dark fabric absorbing the evidence of his vulnerability. A shuddering breath escapes me as I realize the gravity of the situation. He's a Vrakken—strong, nearly immortal—but the poison coursing through his veins is from a demon, a rare breed that can fell even the mightiest of his kind.

I can't lose him. Not now, not when we've come so far. Not when I've only just begun to understand the depth of my feelings for him. It's a confusing tangle of emotions—fear, desperation, and something more tender, a budding affection that took root in the soil of our shared struggles.

My gaze flickers to the entrance of the cave, where shadows dance with the flickering light of the fire I've built. It's a beacon, a signal that could draw the wrong kind of attention, but I can't tend to him in the dark. And I need the heat to stave off the chill that's seeping into my bones.

I lean over him, my ear hovering above his mouth, listening for the faint whisper of his breath. It's there, shallow and ragged, but it's there. Relief washes over me, quickly followed by arenewed sense of urgency. I need to find a way to counteract the poison.

"Valen," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "I need you to fight this. You've taught me so much, shown me how to survive, how to fight. But I never got the chance to learn how to save you."

I pause, waiting for a response—a squeeze of my hand, a flutter of his eyelids, anything—but there's nothing. The silence is a heavy shroud, smothering the frantic beating of my heart.

"I need you, Valen. I need you to wake up. We have... we have unfinished business," I say softly.

My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Crying won't save him. Action will.

I glance around the cave, my mind racing with possibilities. There are herbs out there, plants with medicinal properties that I've learned about during our time together. If I can find the right ones, combine them in the right way, maybe—just maybe—I can save him.

With a final, lingering look at Valen's pale face, I rise to my feet. I grab my cloak, pulling it tight around my shoulders as I step out into the night.

I move with purpose, my eyes scanning the ground for the telltale signs of the plants I need. My fingers brush against something soft and velvety—moonlace, a plant known for its healing properties. I pluck it from the soil, adding it to the small pouch at my side.

Next, I find nightshade, its dark berries gleaming like precious stones in the moonlight. It's a dangerous plant, one that can easily kill if used improperly, but in the right dosage, it can counteract the effects of the demon poison.

I return to the cave with my haul, my breath coming in short, exhausted pants. Valen is exactly as I left him, his chest rising and falling with the barest hint of life.

I set to work, grinding the plants into a fine paste, mixing them with water to create a makeshift antidote. My hands tremble as I lift his head, pressing the concoction to his lips, praying to any god that might be listening to let this work.

"You're strong, Valen," I say, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "Fight. Fight for me, for us, for the future we could have if you'd just open your eyes."

I wait, watching for any sign of improvement, any indication that the poison is being purged from his system. Minutes turn into hours, the night deepening around us as I keep my silent vigil.

My heart stutters as Valen's eyelids flutter, a faint glimmer of crimson peeking through. I lean closer, my hand gently cradling his cheek.

"Valen," I whisper. His eyes open, just a sliver, but it's enough to send a jolt of hope through me. He tries to speak, but his voice is nothing more than a hoarse rasp.

I press my fingers to his lips, silencing him. "Shh, don't try to talk. You need to save your strength," I whisper.

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