Page 132 of Stormvein

“I woke up.” She moves closer. “What are you thinking about?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her gaze searches mine. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“The plan is simple. Lisandra takes my message to Sereven. We watch, and then get her out of there before he kills her.”

“That’s all?” Skepticism colors her tone. “You’ve come all this way just to watch her tell him you’re not dead?”

“That’s all that matters for now.”

“I don’t believe you. You get this look when you’re holding something back.” She waves a hand toward my face. “You won’t meet my eyes.”

When did she learn to read me so well?

“It doesn’t matter if you do or not. The plan doesn’t change.”

“Why are you shutting me out?” A hint of frustration enters her voice, but there’s hurt there too, and she isn’t bothering to hide it. “After everything we’ve been through … the dream you had …” Her fingers curl at her sides, tiny silver sparks dancing between her fingers. “I thought we were past this. Past you deciding what I can and can’t handle.”

“Some knowledge creates unnecessary risk.”

“For who? Me or you?” Those silver-flecked eyes search mine. “Are you afraid of what happens when you’re not the only one with all the pieces?”

“Both.” The word costs more than she will ever know.

Her ability to see more than I want to reveal should bother me. It should trigger every instinct for self-preservation that kept me alive. Yet what I feel instead is relief. Relief that she knows who I am, and still stays.

“I can handle risk.” Her voice softens, and she reaches out to touch my arm. “What I can’t handle is being kept in the dark while you face whatever is waiting at Blackstone Ridge. What I can’t handle is the thought of losing you because I wasn’t prepared for what you’re really planning.”

“My focus needs to remain absolute tomorrow. Concerns about your safety would compromise that focus.”

“So your solution is to tell menothing?” She shakes her head. “That’s not protection, Sacha. That’s control.”

Her words strike closer to the truth than I care to acknowledge. Control has always been integral to my survival. Control of information, of strategy, of emotion. But she’s asking me to surrender control to her, totrusther.

“Tomorrow is going to be dangerous. Sereven is not a fool. He’ll be prepared for treachery. He will have forces positioned all around.”

“And?”

I sigh. “And your safety is not negotiable.”

Her eyes narrow. “Neither is yours.”

“My safety isn’t important.”

“It is tome!” The passion in her voice can’t be ignored. “Don’t you understand that? I didn’t watch you die by inches after Glassfall Gap just to let you sacrifice yourself at Blackstone Ridge.”

The reference to those days—to how close I came to not returning from my injuries, to how her presence anchored me when I might have simply let go—hits harder than I expect.

“This isn’t about sacrifice, Ellie.”

“Then tell me what it is about. Why the secrecy?” Her voice drops, becoming almost pleading. “Tell me why you look at me like you’re memorizing my face in case the world ends tomorrow.”

Because it might. Because tomorrow has the potential to change everything. Because the woman from my dream spoke of truths that I can no longer leave buried, and I know with a bone-deep certainty that whatever happens at Blackstone Ridge might reshape everything we think we understand.

“Not secrecy, just that we must remain flexible. We need to adapt to circumstances as they develop.”

It’s not a lie, merely a selective truth. Enough information to satisfy immediate concerns without revealing anything that would only increase her determination to intervene.