Page 55 of Fated to the Damned

Still, others stop us as we try to make our way through. Like Alina, who embraces Jessa tightly, grinning wide. "Thank the First! I was so worried, but you made it through the Change."

Jessa returns the fierce hug, patting Alina's back gently. "I'm alright, don't worry."

Over Alina's shoulder, Jessa's eyes meet mine, filled with urgency. There is no time for prolonged celebration now, as much as Alina wishes to rejoice in her friend's success.

Alina pulls back, grasping Jessa's shoulders as she takes her in. "Congratulations! A mated vrakken now! Can you believe it?”

Jessa smiles though it doesn't reach her eyes. "I can’t, Alina. But Nikolai and I have urgent business with the Elders..."

Alina's brow furrows. "What business? Tonight is for celebrating you!"

I step forward, resting a hand on Alina's shoulder. "Please forgive us, but a matter of great importance has arisen. We must speak with Raziel and Soren immediately."

Alina glances between us, taking in my grim tone and Jessa's tired but determined expression. Slowly, she nods and steps back.

"Of course, I understand. Go to them." She tries for an encouraging smile. "We can celebrate later, once this business is settled."

We attempt to gracefully accept the congratulations and well wishes as we push deeper into the sea of bodies. Their praise washes over me unheard as I crane my neck, desperately scanning roving eyes and flared wings for any sign of Raziel or Soren.

There – on the far edge of the courtyard! Raziel's enormous jet black wings stand out even in the crowd. Soren's icy scowl keeps everyone away from them.

Together Jessa and I shove through the press, heedless now of social graces. Lives hang perilously in the balance with each passing second.

Their smiles of greeting fade as we approach, taking in my grim expression and Jessa’s weary paleness. Before they can speak, I rush out in a tumble of words, “We must talk now. It's a matter of our people's very survival."

Raziel's gaze sharpens, alarm creasing his brow. Beside him, Soren stands taller, caution written across his face.

"Shall we go somewhere more secluded?" Raziel asks, gesturing toward the hall where we met once before.

I nod and the four of us take off in that direction. Jessa's small hand finds mine again as we follow close on their heels.

I squeeze her hand, and she looks up at me. For a moment, all I can think of is her. I have finally found my mate, my love, and if these dark elf bastards want to come after us, then let them come.

I’ll gladly rip them apart for trying to threaten what is mine.

31

GENERAL HODOLO VALNU

“What is that saying?” I wave my hand in the air. “Where there are rodans, there must be a nest.” I grin, eyes sweeping to my Lieutenant. “I can’t wait to destroy that nest.”

Dhanone smiles back at me. “The scum will finally learn where their rightful place is.”

I clap him on the shoulder with a laugh as I turn to stare at the bastards. They are still scurrying about, mostly humans as the light breaches through the trees. Which suits us well.

I’ll slaughter the creatures and grab a few fresh pussies for my men. They’ll need some way to celebrate tonight.

I watch with disgust as the pathetic inhabitants below go about their day, utterly oblivious to the danger that lurks nearby.

The humans till soil and harvest crops, laughter carrying on the breeze as they work. Further away, a group of vrakken train in a dusty arena, sparring and honing their combat skills. Fools. It will not save them.

They chose the losing side by aligning themselves with the winged abominations. And now they will face the consequences.

"Look at them, scurrying about without a care," I sneer to Dhanone. "Oblivious lambs fattening themselves for the slaughter."

He grins, hand tightening on the hilt of his blade in anticipation. "It's past time they learn their rightful place beneath your boot, General."

I nod, a cruel smile twisting my lips as I observe the peaceful scenes below. Mere moments remain before chaos and death erupt on the pastoral calm. These pathetic rodents and their winged masters will regret ever defying the will of the dark elves.