10. Valen

10

VALEN

T he 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.

I could lie to her, spin a tale about how she's a means to an end, another weapon in my arsenal against the dark elves. But as I sit here, with the warmth of her body seeping into mine, I find that I can't bring myself to deceive her. Not about this.

"The truth?" I say. "I see myself in you, Rhea. A shadow of the person I once was—before loss and rage consumed me. You're a reminder that there's still something worth fighting for beyond my own selfish desires."

Her breath hitches slightly, and she turns those piercing eyes to meet mine. There's a vulnerability there that she rarely shows.

"Valen," she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing.

I lean in, ignoring the voice in my head that screams for caution. My heart races, a sensation I haven't felt in centuries. Time seems to slow as I close the distance between us, giving her ample opportunity to pull away. But she doesn't. Instead, she meets me halfway, her lips brushing against mine with a tentative hunger that mirrors my own.

The kiss deepens, fueled by the raw emotions we've both been suppressing. Her hands find their way to my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer. I wrap my arms around her, drawing her into my lap as I explore the contours of her mouth with a newfound urgency.

She tastes of fire and sweetness, a heady combination that ignites a primal urge within me. I am alpha, a Vrakken lord, yet in this moment, I am also vulnerable and raw. Her presence has chipped away at me, allowing me to feel something other than hatred and the relentless drive for revenge.

I break the kiss, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Rhea," I murmur, my forehead resting against hers. "This changes nothing. The path we've chosen... it's fraught with danger."

She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "I know," she says, her voice steady despite the emotions that dance in her eyes. "But if we're to face death together, then let us also share this—a moment of peace amidst the chaos."

Her words resonate within me, a poignant reminder that our lives are not solely defined by our quest for vengeance. There's a tenderness to our connection, a fragile bond that has the potential to either strengthen or shatter us.

Rhea's breath hitches as my fingers trace the line of her jaw, her skin soft beneath my touch. The fire's glow casts a warm light on her face. I can see the rapid pulse in her neck, a telltale sign of her arousal.

"Valen," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. Her eyes search mine, questions lingering on the tip of her tongue.

I silence her with a kiss again, my hand sliding to the nape of her neck, tangling in her dark hair. My grip is firm, possessive, as I pull her down onto the makeshift bed of furs and blankets. The scent of her—earth and a hint of sweat from our recent skirmish—fills my senses, stoking the primal urgency that courses through my veins.

She gasps as I break the kiss, my lips trailing along her jawline and down the slender column of her throat. My touch is gentle, yet there's an undercurrent of dominance that I can't—and won't—suppress.

"I want to take your mind off of everything," I murmur against her skin, my breath sending a shiver through her body. "Let me give you this, Rhea. Let me give you this moment of peace."

Her response is a soft moan as my hand slides under the fabric of her tunic, my fingers grazing the smooth skin of her stomach. I can feel the tension in her muscles. But as I continue to explore her body, I feel her beginning to relax, her guard lowering as she surrenders to the sensations.

I tug at her clothing, pulling it up and over her head, revealing the toned, lithe body that's been honed through combat training. Her breathing quickens, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. I dip my head, capturing one of her pert nipples between my lips, teasing it with my tongue as my hand moves lower.

Her hips buck as my fingers find the slick heat between her legs. A groan escapes me—the sound vibrating against her breast —as I realize just how much she wants this. The knowledge that I can elicit such a response from her only fuels my desire.

I slide a finger inside her, then another, my movements slow and deliberate. Her fingers clutch at the furs, her body arching into my touch. "You're so wet for me," I growl.

Her only response is another moan, her eyes closed, her lips parted in a silent plea for more. I withdraw my fingers, much to her dismay, and she watches me through heavy-lidded eyes as I bring them to my mouth, tasting her arousal. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and desire, and it's all I can do not to claim her right then and there.

But I want more than just a fleeting moment of pleasure. I want to show her that there's more to this world than death and destruction—that there's beauty in surrender, in the connection between two souls who've known nothing but pain and loss.

I move down her body, my hands parting her thighs as I settle my head between them. My tongue soon flicks out, teasing her sensitive flesh, and she cries out, her hands fisting in my hair. I lave at her, my tongue delving into her core, my lips sucking on her clit, drawing out her pleasure.

Her body tightens, her muscles coiling like a spring as I push her closer to the edge. "Valen, I—" she starts, her voice trailing off into a scream as her orgasm rips through her. I continue to lap at her, drawing out her climax until she's limp and panting beneath me.

I rise, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I move to lie beside her. Her eyes flutter open, a look of sated wonder in their hazel depths. "That was..." she begins, her voice shaky.

"Just the beginning," I finish for her, pulling her into the shelter of my body. She fits perfectly against me, her head resting on my chest, her hand splayed across my heart.