Page 37 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

Chapter Seventeen

SACHA

The Vein will not carry the unwilling. It will drown them.

The Nature of Veinblood Rebirth

“I’ll take the first watch.”

Varam pauses in his walk around the chamber we’re gathered in. “One of us?—”

“You have all done enough. It’s my turn to watch over you.” My tone ends the argument before it even begins. These people have pushed themselves to the breaking point for me. For what I represent.

I exit the underground chamber before anyone else can speak, climbing stone steps worn smooth by generations of feet.

Moonlight bathes the abandoned stronghold in a silvery light that reminds me of Ellie.

The comparison catches me off guard. How quickly her presence has become a reference point for me, a measure against which other things are compared.

I walk through what used to be hallways, remembering how Southernrock stood proud when I was last here. The ghosts of torches flicker against stone walls. If I close my eyes, I can hear the background noise of training, planning, living . Before the Authority reduced it to this burnt-out skeleton.

The north wall has collapsed entirely, stone scattered across what was once a training yard. Fighters practiced here, honing skills that couldn’t save them when the Authority finally decided to eliminate this particular thorn in their side. All gone now, reduced to rubble and faded memory.

I pick my way through what was once the great hall, now open to the sky where the roof has fallen in.

Rain and snow have warped what little remains of the wooden furnishings.

Except in one corner, where a stone table stands, miraculously intact, where maps were once spread and missions planned.

My fingers trace the edge, feeling the grooves from knives marking targets, routes, and strike points.

Veinwardens died defending this place. Not people I knew well, but brothers and sisters in the same fight. They deserve to be remembered, not have their names fade from memory.

The main courtyard opens before me, its flagstones cracked and uneven. Weeds push through the gaps, nature slowly reclaiming what men abandoned. The remains of a small fountain sit at the center, its basin filled with leaves and debris.

I keep walking until I find myself at the western lookout point, a natural rock formation that provides clear views across the valley.

From here, sentries could spot approaching soldiers hours before they reached the stronghold.

I scan instinctively for movement in the shadows below, plotting escape routes, defensive positions, vulnerabilities.

Calling out my raven, I watch as it launches itself from my chest and into the night sky. It whirls and dips, stretching its wings, reveling in its release.

Lifting my hand, I let shadows dance across my fingers. Occasionally, silver threads flicker to life inside them, before disappearing. The power inside me has changed. It’s stronger now, more concentrated. And not just because of the ring.

My shadows respond almost before I decide what I need, more potent than they were before my capture. The silver storm that flowed through Ellie into me didn’t just heal my body, it refined what was already there, distilled and purified it. Part of her lives in me now.

Footsteps approach me from behind, light and cautious. I don’t need to turn to know who it is.

“You should be asleep,” I say without turning.

She stops several paces behind me. “So should you. Instead of out here doing … whatever it is you’re doing.”

It’s interesting how she dares to question my actions when no one else does. She always has, from the moment she stepped into my tower. I turn to face her, acutely aware of the subtle shift in my breathing, a loosening in my chest that happens only in her presence.

The silver light that is a constant part of her now is visible under the moonlight, casting an ethereal glow over her skin. Something about seeing her like this, illuminated from within, creates an unexpected ache of appreciation.

When my gaze lifts to her face, it’s to find her expression guarded, wary.

More than it was when she first arrived here.

The distance in her eyes stings more than it should, and I find myself wanting to bridge that gap, to return to the fragile trust we’d built before she saw what I’m truly capable of.

“I need less sleep now.”

“Another side effect?”

One corner of my mouth tips up. “No. I didn’t sleep much before my imprisonment in the tower. Vigilance becomes a habit when you spend most of your life being hunted.”

She moves closer, stopping close to the edge of the broken wall. The mist stalker follows, like a silent guardian.

“How well do you know this place?”

“I passed through once or twice during the early years when the Authority first began their rise to power.” I scan the valley below out of habit. “But the people here died fighting the Authority while I was trapped inside the tower. That makes it worth remembering.”

She follows my gaze, watching as my raven spins and loops in the night sky. The silence between us stretches, not uncomfortable, almost like it’s waiting.

“I keep thinking about home.” She doesn’t look at me. “If anyone back in Chicago is looking for me. If time even passes the same way there.” Her tongue comes out to sweep over her lips. “It’s strange how much my life there feels like a dream now.”

“I promised to find a way to return you home. Do you still wish to go?” I’m not certain I want to hear her answer.

Her lashes lower, hiding her eyes. “I don’t know anymore. I thought I did.” She sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“Because of the power that’s awakened in you?”

“Partly.” She doesn’t elaborate further. Instead, she takes in a deep breath, then turns to face me. “What happened today …” Her voice is soft. “Those soldiers?—”

“Would have killed us without hesitation if they’d found us.”

“You didn’t even give them a chance to surrender.”

“To what end?” I study her face, the conflict clearly written across it.

“There are thirteen fighters with us, exhausted after days of limited supplies and trying to keep me alive. If a single one of those soldiers escaped, they would have reported our position immediately. Within hours, we would have faced a force not even I could have kept away.”

Her lips press together, but she doesn’t look away. “But you didn’t kill them out of necessity, Sacha. You killed them because you wanted to.”

“Is that what you believe?” I arch one eyebrow, fighting the unexpected urge to defend my actions to her. “I killed them because it was the right decision. I won’t apologize to you for doing what was necessary to keep you alive.”

“You slaughtered them.” She doesn’t raise her voice, which somehow makes it worse.

“This is a war, Ellie. One I’ve been fighting for most of my life.”

“Wars have rules.” There’s a certainty in her voice that speaks of a world very different from mine.

“Maybe your world does,” I say, softer now. “But wars here have winners and losers. Rules are a luxury afforded only by those who already have the power.” Rules didn’t save the Veinwardens at Thornreave. Rules didn’t stop the annihilation of Veinbloods. Rules didn’t stop my years of imprisonment.

Rules are mirages the powerful create to justify their dominance.

“That’s just an excuse to behave like them,” she counters, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “If you abandon everything you claim to stand for, what exactly are you winning?”

“Survival.” I don’t even need to think about the answer. “Freedom for the people who have been hunted. Justice for those who didn’t survive. Is that not worth fighting for?”

“Of course it is, but how you fight matters. The means shape the end. I’ve seen what the Authority does, how they justify their cruelty.” Her voice falters for a second before steadying again. “But if you mirror their methods, where does it end?”

She holds my gaze, her expression challenging. “How do your actions make you different from the very people you’re fighting against?”

The question is like an arrow, finding a place inside me that I didn’t know existed. Have I become what I’ve fought against for so long? No . I bury the thought before it can take root.

“Intention. Purpose. The Authority kills to keep power through fear and control. I kill to end their reign of terror.” But even as I say it, I can hear the hollowness in my justification.

“And to someone caught in the middle? Someone who sees all the death on both sides? What about those people, Sacha? What about the young men who know no better? Who are forced to become soldiers because they have nothing else?”

“You speak of choices I haven’t had the luxury to consider. When every day is survival, morality becomes simplified.”

“And now?” she asks. “Now that you’re free, now that you have your power back? Now you do have choices. What will your choices be?”

I look at her, this woman from another world who somehow sees through the layers of darkness I’ve wrapped around myself for protection. Who dares to demand better of me when everyone else simply accepts what I am.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I know what I can’t choose. I can’t choose to let the Authority continue. I can’t choose to let Sereven escape justice for what he’s done.”

She studies me for a long moment. “There’s justice, and then there’s vengeance. I’m not sure you know the difference anymore.”

It’s clear nothing I say will make her understand. I don’t know anything about the world she comes from, but she has never lived through war the way I have. Reaching for my shadows, I issue a silent instruction.

They flow out of me, but not in the chaotic, violent mass of earlier. This is subtler, spreading out in the air between us.