20. Rhea

20

RHEA

M y heart hammers violently against my ribcage, each beat a silent plea for the strength to do what must be done. The dagger in my hand feels heavier than the weight of the world as its point presses against Valen's chest. His crimson eyes, usually ablaze with an unyielding fire, now flicker with a grim resignation.

The cold stone of the dungeon walls leaches the warmth from my body, and I shiver, though not from the chill. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I have to."

Valen's gaze holds mine, unwavering despite the pain he must be feeling. There's no anger in his eyes, only a deep, sorrowful understanding that slices through me sharper than any blade ever could. "Rhea," he murmurs softly, my name a sacred incantation on his lips.

Aelith's laughter, cruel and victorious, reverberates off the stone walls as he watches from the sidelines. "Do it, little human," he taunts.

Tears blur my vision, turning the dungeon into a watery tapestry of grays and shadows. I draw in a shaky breath, my fingers tightening around the hilt of the dagger. Every instinct screams at me to stop, to find another way, but the image of my parents—beaten, bruised, and bound—haunts me, fueling my resolve.

"Forgive me," I choke out, and with a swift, merciless thrust, I plunge the dagger into Valen's chest. His gasp of pain is a dagger to my own heart, and I feel him go rigid beneath my touch before his body sags against the chains that bind him.

Blood wells up around the blade, staining his skin and my hands. The metallic scent of it fills my nostrils, mingling with the damp, earthy smell of the dungeon. "Valen," I cry out, my voice cracking with the force of my anguish.

His eyes flutter, struggling to stay open, and in that moment, the world around us ceases to exist. There is no dungeon, no dark elves, no impossible choices—only Valen and the profound, soul-deep connection we share. "I love you," I confess, the words spilling from my lips in a rush of desperation and despair.

Valen's breath hitches, a wet, gurgling sound that chills me to the bone. "Rhea," he rasps with a laborious effort.

The room spins around me, a vortex of horror and desperation. I can't breathe, can't think past the roaring in my ears. "Valen," I choke out, my voice a mere whisper, lost in the cavernous dungeon.

His eyes meet mine.

I'm shaking uncontrollably, the dagger's point piercing his skin. The wound I've inflicted upon him is a physical manifestation of the agony tearing through my soul. "I can't lose you," I whisper softly. Tears stream freely down my face, each drop a testament to my torment.

Valen manages a weak smile, his lips parting to speak, but I silence him with a desperate plea. "Give us a chance," I beg, the words tumbling from my lips in a rush of raw emotion. "Turn me into a Vrakken."

His eyes suddenly widen, a flicker of surprise—and something deeper, something unspoken—passing between us. Time stands still, the world holding its breath as we hang suspended in this moment of irrevocable transformation.

With a strength that belies his injuries, Valen stands up tall and stretches his neck out. He soon places his mouth near the back of my neck. "Rhea, this is no gift," he warns, his voice steady despite the pain he must be feeling.

"I don't care," I insist, my resolve hardening. "I won't let them take you from me. I won't let them win."

Valen's gaze softens, a silent acceptance of the path I've chosen. His fangs glisten, a stark contrast to the pallor of his skin, and I brace myself for the pain I know is coming.

The sharp, sudden sting of his fangs sinking into my neck is like nothing I've ever felt before. It's a violation, a branding of my very soul, and yet, there's an undeniable beauty in the act. The initial piercing pain quickly gives way to a warmth that spreads through my veins, a potent cocktail of agony and ecstasy that threatens to consume me whole.

My breath hitches in my throat, a gasp of surprise and wonder as the venom courses through me. Each pulse of my racing heart carries the transformation further into my being. The world around us fades into insignificance. The damp stone walls and iron chains of our captivity melt away until there is only Valen and the sacred dance we find ourselves in.

With a trembling hand, I reach up to cradle his face. Our eyes lock, and in that moment, I understand the true depth of our connection. It's more than just shared pain or a mutual thirst for revenge. It's a bond that transcends the physical realm, an eternal link between two souls that have found solace in each other's darkness.

I drink from Valen in return, my lips pressed against the wound I've inflicted upon him. His blood, rich and potent, fills my mouth, and I swallow, the act both intimate and profound. It's a sacred communion, a sharing of life forces that deepens the bond between us. The transformation ripples through me, reshaping my very essence into something new, something powerful.

My senses sharpen, the dank, musty air of the dungeon now alive with a thousand new scents and sounds. I can hear the steady drip of water from a leak in the ceiling, the rapid beat of Valen's heart in sync with my own. The world is crisper, clearer, as if I've been seeing it through a veil that has now been lifted.

I pull away, my injuries closing up as the transformation completes its course. The pain and fatigue that had been my constant companions since our capture are now distant memories. I feel a newfound strength coursing through every muscle in my body, a vitality that is both exhilarating and terrifying.

My hands, once pale and delicate, are now strong and sure, the nails sharpened to fine points. I flex my fingers, marveling at the changes wrought by Valen's venom. "I can feel it," I whisper, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging within me. "I can feel the power."

Valen's eyes meet mine, a new understanding passing between us. "Rhea," he says, my name a benediction on his lips. "You are reborn."

I nod knowingly, feeling the truth of his words in every fiber of my being. Together, we will now be unstoppable, a sheer force to be reckoned with. The dark elves may have underestimated us before, but they won't make that mistake again.

Raw power now courses through my veins, a wildfire that burns away my humanity and replaces it with something far more potent.

I rise to my feet, my body uncoiling like a serpent poised to strike. My eyes are no longer the hazel of a human but the glowing crimson orbs of a Vrakken, fierce and unyielding.

Aelith and his cohorts freeze, their arrogant smirks fading into masks of horror as they take in the transformation that has rendered me into something formidable.

"What is this sorcery?" Aelith stammers, his voice echoing off the dungeon walls.

Valen's voice, weak but defiant, cuts through the tension. "She is not your pawn any longer," he retorts.

I flex my fingers, feeling the sharp sting of my claws as they slice through the air. The shadows of the dungeon seem to writhe around me, as if eager to do my bidding. "No," I agree, my voice a low growl that reverberates with the promise of retribution. "I am your worst nightmare."

With a supernatural speed that leaves their heads spinning, I launch myself at the dark elves. My body moves with a lethal grace that I've never known before, each strike precise and deadly. Aelith's sword clashes against my arm, the impact sending sparks flying, but the blade does not pierce my skin. I am stronger, faster, and more resilient than I've ever been.

I tear through them with a ferocity that shocks even me. My fangs sink into their flesh, the taste of dark elf blood metallic and bitter on my tongue. It is a taste I have never experienced, yet it feels as natural to me as breathing.

The dark elves fall, one by one, their bodies crumpling under the onslaught of my wrath. I am a force of nature, unstoppable and relentless. And with each life I take, a small part of the pain and sorrow I have endured my entire life is avenged.

As the last of them falls, I turn to Valen, my heart pounding in my chest. He hangs limply from his chains, his strength waning. I rush to his side, my hands fumbling with the locks that bind him. The metal gives way beneath my strong hands, and Valen slumps forward into my arms.

"Drink now," I urge him, guiding his mouth to the nearest corpse. His lips press against the cold skin, and he drinks deeply, the Vrakken venom working to heal his wounds. Color slowly returns to his cheeks, and his eyes, once dim, now glow with renewed vigor.

"Rhea," he murmurs, his voice laced with awe and gratitude. "You did it."

I nod firmly, my own amazement mirrored in his gaze. "We did it," I correct him, because without him, I would still be that scared slave, dreaming of a life beyond these dark elf walls.

Together, we are a testament to the strength that can be found in unity. The bond we share now is unbreakable, forged in the fires of our own adversity and solidified by the trials we have faced together.

He takes my hand in his, our fingers intertwining in a silent vow of solidarity. "What now?" I ask, my voice tinged with curiosity.

He stares deep into my eyes, his crimson eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight. "Now," he says, "Together we continue our fight. Not just for revenge, but for a future free from the darkness that has consumed us for so long."

I squeeze his hand tight, my resolve hardening. "Together," I affirm, the word a solemn oath between us.

I cannot help but revel in the fact that we are no longer the hunted, we are now the hunters. And we will not rest until our enemies are vanquished and the world we inhabit is bathed in the light of a new dawn.