Her Immortal Mate (Brides of the Vrakken #3)

1. Eike

1

EIKE

T he flames cast dancing shadows across pale faces gathered around multiple fires dotting our temporary camp. I stand with my arms folded across my chest, scanning the perimeter while half-listening to the animated conversation. These stories never get old, even though I've heard them countless times since being Made.

Since coming to Protheka two years ago.

"You changelings think you know everything about the Great War?" Raina's lips curl into a sneer as she takes in a group we just Changed. Her wings, smaller than mine but just as lethal, flex behind her. "It's not always just been us against those wretched dark elves. The dark elf gods have been busy making all sorts of creatures that add to the blood bath."

This has become a ritual over the last few months. So many changes have been happening on Protheka as the gods get involved and the Change can affect humans in weird ways. So the trainers spend their nights around fires telling stories of the First, of how we came to Protheka, and tales of the war.

"Tell us again about the purna," one of the newer changelings pipes up.

"Ah yes, those dangerous little witches." Raina's dark eyes reflect the firelight. "Human women who developed magic after we brought them here. We tried to use them as weapons, but they fled. I hear they ended up creating gargoyles by accident across the water — tried turning some dark elves to stone but fucked up the spell."

"Don't forget the manticore," another vrakken chimes in. "Dark elves tried taming some likar, begged their gods to make them smarter. The Hedonist-" He spits the god's name. "Gave them wings and intelligence, but they turned on their masters and claimed their own island."

I shift my weight, remembering the first time I saw the dragon shifters. Mercifully, the fight against them didn't last long.

As if reading my mind, Raina continues, "And then there were the Hearthkeeper's pets — she went behind everyone's backs and gave some dark elves the power to turn into dragons. But they couldn't master the ability fast enough. We slaughtered most of them before they fled to their volcanic island."

The recruits lean forward, entranced by the tales of creatures that now exist only in whispers. The dark elves probably believe these failures to be their secrets, but in truth, we have spies everywhere.

The only place it isn't helping us is fighting them. We're, unfortunately, evenly magic. Our magic is too similar and where we have wings, they have the sun to their advantage. Where we need blood, they have the ability to steal and kill the animals. We are immortal but they know how to wither us to nothing.

This war feels endless.

I return my attention to the darkness beyond our camp, knowing these stories serve as more than just entertainment. They're reminders of why we remain vigilant, why we fight. We want freedom. It's why we left Earth, to come to Protheka where we can use magic and no longer hide.

I shift my stance, muscles tense from hours of standing guard. These war stories stir memories of my own military past - but warfare on Protheka makes my Bundeswehr training seem almost quaint in comparison.

"Something on your mind, Eike?" Raina's voice cuts through my thoughts. I hadn't noticed that some of the changelings were staring at me.

"Just remembering Earth warfare." I keep my eyes trained on the darkness. "Guns, tanks, tactical formations. Here..." I gesture at the camp. "Magic changes everything."

"Tell us about Earth battles," one of the newer recruits asks, eyes bright with curiosity.

"Structure. Order. Clear chains of command." My jaw tightens. "Not this chaos of wings and blood magic. On Earth, you could plan. Calculate trajectories, ammunition counts, supply lines."

Raina laughs, the sound sharp in the night air. "Missing your precious military precision?"

"Sometimes." I flex my wings - still strange after two years, these massive appendages that span wider than any others in camp. "On Earth, you didn't have to worry about your enemy turning into a dragon mid-fight. Or having your tactical advantage stripped away because some dark elf managed to break your sun glamour."

"But we're stronger here," another recruit points out. "The magic in our blood-"

"Is both blessing and curse," I cut in. "Yes, we're faster, stronger. But we're also bound by new rules. Need blood to maintain that strength. Some can't move freely in daylight without draining their magic." I run a hand through my short hair. "In the Bundeswehr, we trained for every scenario. Here? How do you train for an enemy that can reshape reality with a spell?"

"You adapt," Raina says simply.

"Right. But some days..." I trail off, watching shadows dance at the edge of our camp. "Some days I miss the simplicity of mortal combat. Point, shoot, clear objective. Not this eternal stalemate of matched powers."

Raina uses what I said as a jumping off point, teaching the changelings of past battles and how they can fight the dark elves. This time, I really do tune her out, letting my eyes sweep across the war encampment.

Movement catches my eye - a flash of copper in the firelight. A woman I've never seen before weaves between the fires, kneeling beside the wounded. Her movements are precise, economical. No wasted motion as she checks bandages and applies fresh dressings.

"Hold still," she murmurs to a writhing changeling, her voice carrying across the camp. "The venom's working its way out. Fighting it only makes it worse."

She's human - that much is clear from her warm skin tone and the way she navigates the darkness with a little stumbling and careful picking without our enhanced sight.

But there's something different about her. Most humans cower or simper around us. This one moves with quiet confidence, completely focused on her task.

The firelight catches her hair again - not just copper, but threads of gold and deep red that remind me of autumn leaves. She tucks an errant strand behind her ear as she works, revealing a delicate profile with high cheekbones and a determined set to her jaw.

"Their fever should break by morning," she tells another healer, her green eyes reflecting the flames as she glances up.

For a moment, those eyes meet mine across the camp. Something electric passes between us before she looks away, returning to her patient.

I watch the woman's capable hands as she ties off a bandage. There's a quiet strength in her movements, a resilience that draws me in despite myself. When she stands, brushing dirt from her knees, I notice she's built like a fighter - lean muscle and controlled grace.

"The venom is mostly neutralized," she reports to the head healer. Because now the dark elves have started sending venomous animals after us. Not that we can't fight it off but it incapacitates for a while. "But they'll need monitoring through the night."

Her clinical detachment intrigues me almost as much as her beauty. No hysteria, no desperate attempts to curry favor. Just calm competence in the face of supernatural warfare.

I find myself wanting to know her story. How she came to be here. What makes her so different from the other humans we've encountered.

"Getting attached to the new medic?" Dominik materializes beside me, his own wings tucked close against his back. "I've seen that look before."

I don't take my eyes off the copper-haired woman. "What look?"

"Like you're already planning how to claim her." He crosses his arms. "Don't bother. More and more people are being Changed. And you know how humans end up here — either they prove useful enough to keep around as servants, or..." He lets the implication hang.

They're sustenance.

"She's different." The words come out before I can stop them.

"They're all different until they're not." Dominik's voice carries centuries of cynicism. "You better hope they don't find out she's got some kind of magic. That would really do her in."

I shake my head, watching as she moves to another patient. Her movements are too genuine, too focused. "I doubt she does. But she's too useful to kill." Unless a dark elf gets his hands on her during an attack.

Sometimes I forget how much more fragile the humans are than us.

Dominik's tone softens slightly. "Listen, I get it. She's beautiful, she's capable. But we never know where these humans will end up. Better not to get invested." He sighs, looking around. "To anyone. This is war, Eike."

I want to argue, but when he puts it like that, I can't. I've been trained as a soldier for a long time, and I know what happens in war. It's unpredictable.

Still, something in my gut tells me this woman is different. The way she holds herself, the quiet strength in her movements...

"Just watch yourself," Dominik adds before melting back into the shadows.

I remain at my post, but my eyes keep drifting to her as she works. Dominik's warning echoes in my head, but it doesn't sit right. Something about her calls to me on a level I can't explain - and for the first time since being Made, I find myself hoping. Wanting.

I thought I had lost that.