Her Immortal Love (Brides of the Vrakken #2)

9. Alexei

9

ALEXEI

I stand before Brinda and Raziel, their piercing gazes boring into me. The weight of their scrutiny feels heavier than the armor I wore in battle.

"Your performance was exemplary, Alexei," Brinda says, her fiery red curls seeming to dance with an otherworldly energy. "The way you anticipated the dark elves' movements... It was impressive."

Raziel nods, his dark eyes unreadable. "We're promoting you to lead your own battalion. Your strategic mind will be invaluable as we continue to establish our foothold here."

These two have been very close to Nyx. They're like her advisors and for them to see me, to think I am doing well… Pride swells in my chest, but it's quickly tempered by the stern set of their jaws.

"However," Raziel continues, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone, "we've noticed your... interactions with the human girl."

My body tenses. I fight to keep my expression neutral, but I can feel my fangs lengthening with stress.

Brinda's wings rustle as she leans forward. "Alexei, you must understand. Getting close to a human is dangerous. Not just for you, but for all of us."

"She's different," I argue before I can stop myself. "Her magical abilities?—"

"Are precisely why she's so dangerous," Raziel cuts in. "We can't risk her influencing you or any other vrakken. Our survival depends on maintaining clear boundaries."

I clench my fists, struggling to contain the conflicting emotions raging within me. The taste of Alina's skin lingers on my lips, the memory of her warmth against me threatening to overwhelm my senses.

"Your loyalty must be to your own kind," Brinda says, her tone softening slightly. "We've all made sacrifices. Don't let your human past cloud your judgment now."

I nod stiffly, not trusting myself to speak. The promotion should fill me with satisfaction, but all I feel is a gnawing emptiness.

As I turn to leave, Raziel's voice stops me. "Remember, Alexei. Humans are food, tools at best. Nothing more."

The words hit me like a physical blow. I manage a curt nod before striding out, my mind in turmoil.

Away from them, I try to steady my breathing. The scent of blood and magic hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the war raging around us. Of my place in this new world.

But Alina's face flashes in my mind – her amber eyes alight with curiosity and determination. The way she looked at me not with fear, but with understanding. How can I reconcile these feelings with my duty to the vrakken?

I move without thinking, and I'm not surprised when I find myself outside the human's area. I let their humanity weigh my mind further.

I stand in the shadows, watching the humans huddled together in their makeshift enclosure. Their fear is palpable, a scent that used to excite me but now turns my stomach. As I approach, they shrink back, eyes wide with terror.

My gaze falls on a young man, barely out of his teens. His trembling reminds me of myself, not so long ago. The memory of my own transformation hits me like a punch to the gut.

The searing pain. The overwhelming hunger. The horrifying realization that I was no longer human.

I grab the boy's arm, trying to be gentle but knowing it doesn't matter. His pulse races beneath my fingers as I bring his wrist to my mouth. I hesitate, meeting his terrified eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, though I know it means nothing to him. At least I learned how to make it painless for them…even if it doesn't take away the memories.

As my fangs pierce his skin, I'm assaulted by flashes of my own past. The confusion and fear as I woke up Changed. The revulsion at my first taste of human blood. The gradual acceptance of my new reality.

But was it acceptance? Or just survival?

I pull away, leaving the boy weak but alive. As I move through the crowd, selecting my next victim, I can't shake the growing unease in my chest. We're doing to these humans exactly what was done to us. Is this really the only way?

My eyes search for Alina among the captives, relief flooding through me when I spot her huddled in a corner. I've made sure she's left alone, using my newfound authority to keep her safe. But for how long?

The taste of blood fills my mouth, but it brings no satisfaction. Only questions. Are we any better than the dark elves we're fighting? We claim to need humans for survival, but at what cost?

I finish feeding, my body humming with renewed strength even as my mind reels. As I turn to leave, Alina catches my eye. There's no fear in her gaze, only a mixture of curiosity and... is that concern?

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine a different future. One where humans and vrakken coexist, where transformation is a choice, not a sentence. But as quickly as the thought forms, I push it away. Such ideas are dangerous, especially now.

I force myself to look away from Alina, from the hope and possibility she represents. I have a war to fight, a people to protect. But as I walk away, I can't help but wonder: at what point does survival become tyranny?

I stand on the battlements, surveying the aftermath of another dark elf attack. We've been striking one another, over and over, now locked in a battle for control of these lands.

The air reeks of blood and scorched flesh. Our losses are mounting, and whispers of doubt ripple through our ranks.

"Alexei!" Brinda's voice cuts through the chaos. "We need more soldiers. Now."

I nod grimly, knowing what she means. My stomach churns as I make my way to the human enclosure. Their fear hits me like a wave, but I steel myself. This is war. This is survival.

I select five humans – strong, healthy specimens. As I lead them away, Alina catches my eye. The disappointment in her gaze cuts deeper than any blade.

The Changing process is brutal. I've done it before, but something feels... off this time. The screams seem to last longer, the convulsions more violent. Even the numbing agent does nothing to lessen the process. When it's over, I step back, studying our new recruits.

At first glance, everything seems normal. But as the first rays of dawn break over the horizon, I notice something strange. Two of the newly Changed flinch, their skin reddening slightly in the sunlight.

"What the hell?" I mutter, moving closer to examine them. They're not weakened, not burning like they would if they were extremely weakened. But their discomfort is obvious, something I've never seen before.

And then there's the fifth one. I circle him slowly, my unease growing. "Where are your wings?" I demand.

He looks at me, confused and terrified. "I... I don't know," he stammers.

This isn't right. Every vrakken I've ever seen or heard of has wings. It's part of what makes us what we are. But this one... he's wingless. Changed, but incomplete.

A chill runs down my spine. Something is changing, shifting. The magic that created us, that sustains us – it's behaving differently. But why?

As I lead the new recruits to be outfitted and trained, my mind races. Is it because they weren't Made by the First herself? Is the magic of this world affecting our very essence?

One thing is clear – we're entering uncharted territory. And I can't shake the feeling that this is just the beginning of our problems.