Page 12 of Stormvein

I reach out toward the creature standing guard in front of me, my hand shaking. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” But I’m not okay. I’m breaking apart, and everyone can see it.

Lisandra stares at the mist stalker, then lifts her gaze to meet mine. “Get her settled. Somewhere secure. We’ll convene at dawn.”

Secure. Like a prisoner. Like I’m dangerous.

“I need answers more than rest.” I don’t want to waste any more time.

“And you will get them, if we have them,” Lisandra assures me. But her tone has changed. It’s clipped, distant.Dismissive. “But not while you’re about to collapse.”

I want to protest further, to demand she listen to me, but another surge of power steals my breath. This time, the shadows cast by the lightstones waver and bend. The mist stalker growls again.

“Fine. But tomorrow, we will talk about finding him.” I force the words out through gritted teeth, each one a promise and a threat.

“Tomorrow.” Lisandra’s voice is soft, full of pity. She thinks I’m in denial, clinging to false hope. Maybe I am. But right now, that hope is the only thing that keeps me from letting this power tear me apart.

Mira guides me out of the room and tries to guide me to the left, toward the main living quarters of everyone in Stonehaven. I stop, bracing myself against the wall.

“Ellie, we need to?—”

“No.” She’s about to suggest I go somewhere other than Sacha’s quarters to sleep. The thought sends a surge of panic through me that has nothing to do with the power. If I go anywhere else, it means this is over. That he’s not coming back. I can’t make that choice. Not yet.

“I think it would be better if?—”

“I said,no.” The words come out harsh, and the mist stalker makes a sound beside me—not a growl, but definitely a warning.

Mira glances at it, then at me, and sighs. “This way.”

She leads me through the tunnels, taking a route I know well. Another couple of turns, and we’re outside the door to his quarters. I hesitate, my hand hovering over the ward set in the wall.

What if entering makes it real? What if crossing this threshold means accepting he won’t be here? What if walking into his space means acknowledging I’m on the other side of something I can’t undo?

Nothing has changed when we walk inside. Maps cover the table, weapons hang on the wall, and an open book is balanced on top of a chair. It looks exactly as it did when we left. As if he might return tonight, pull out that chair, and keep reading.

His presence lingers in the air. This is his space, while I was a temporary occupant. Entering it now feels like a violation of privacy, but I force myself to move deeper into the main chamber, searching for … something. Some proof he’ll return.

“Do you need anything?” Mira doesn’t come beyond the threshold. I wonder if she feels it too—the lingering presence, the weight of absence.

“I need you to believe me.”

She sighs. “Ellie?—”

Shaking my head, I turn away. “I don’t need anything.”

When the soft sound tells me the door has closed, I let my entire body sag, eyes closing.

The room has an air of waiting to it. It shouldn’t feel sacred. But it does.

Stop it.

Straightening, I walk past the doorway that leads to my bedroom. I could go there,shouldgo there, but my feet carry me toward his door instead.

My hand hesitates on the handle of his private room. I’ve never entered this space. There has never been any reason for me to go there. My bed is only a few steps away. But I push the door open anyway, drawn by something I can’t name—grief or desperation or simply the need to be surrounded by what remains of him. If this is all that’s left, I need to be in it. Even if it wasn’t meant for me.

His scent hits me first. That distinct blend of shadow and stone, as odd as it sounds. It’s a presence so unmistakable that for one breathless second, I almost believe he’s still here. If I close my eyes, I can imagine turning my head and seeing himstanding by the door, his sharp gaze tracking my every move, one eyebrow raised in that subtle way he has of questioning me. I can evenhearhim speaking.

What are you doing, Ellie?

The illusion shatters too quickly.