Page 39 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

“A familiar isn’t meant to remain physically outside of your body indefinitely. It’s an extension of your power, not a separate entity. When it stays manifested constantly, it draws continuously from your reserves.”

I raise my hand again, calling forth my own familiar. The shadows respond instantly, forming into the raven that’s been with me since childhood. Its wings spread as it solidifies above my palm.

“Mine appeared when I was seven,” I offer, surprising myself with this unprompted sharing. “I’d slipped away and got myself lost in the markets of Ashenvale. The raven appeared and showed me the way home.”

The mist stalker turns toward my raven, recognizing its counterpart. Some kind of acknowledgement passes between them.

“Familiars take physical form when needed, then return once their task is complete.” I demonstrate, letting the raven dissolve back into shadow that flows seamlessly into my hand. “Yours should do the same.”

“I don’t know how. I didn’t even create it on purpose, it appeared when your raven touched me.”

“When my familiar found you, it transferred some of my shadows into you. The storm energy you have merged with those shadows, and it seems to have helped create your familiar.” I study the creature, which looks at me in turn.

“It’s primarily an extension of your power, but carries elements of shadow as well. ”

“Can I learn to do what you do? Call it back to me?” Interest slowly replaces her anger and upset over today’s events.

“Close your eyes.”

She stiffens, and there it is. The fear I’ve been waiting to appear since she watched me slaughter those soldiers.

Since she realized that the man who emerged from that healing is not the same one she knew before.

But what she doesn’t realize is that it wasn’t the healing that changed me, it was the torture.

What she caused simply gave me the second chance that was slipping out of my grasp.

“Why?” She takes a half-step back. Her hand twitches at her side, that silver light betraying her unease. The mist stalker shifts between us, sensing her tension.

Her reaction shouldn’t bother me. It’s rational, prudent even, after what she witnessed today.

She’d be a fool to trust me blindly after everything she’s seen.

And yet, her withdrawal sends an unexpected surge of disappointment through me.

An ache forms somewhere beneath my ribs.

I’ve grown accustomed to her being the one person who doesn’t fear me.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mel’shira.” The words emerge soft, lacking my usual edge. “After everything we’ve been through, do you truly believe I would? I’m going to help you with your familiar, but I need you to focus without visual distractions.”

She hesitates, and the mist stalker steps closer to her. I can see the internal debate playing across her face, trust what we’ve shared before against the evidence of what she thinks I’ve become.

“The familiar formed from your need for protection. Now it’s become a habit, a constant drain rather than an asset.”

“I’m not doing anything to keep it here.”

“Not consciously, but power responds to need and intention, even unconscious ones. So, close your eyes.”

She gives me one last look, then lowers her lashes. I move closer.

“The mist stalker is tethered to you by threads of power, visible if you know how to look for them. Look inside. Can you feel it?”

She frowns, then shakes her head. “I can’t do it.”

“Open your eyes, and watch.” I call forth my raven again, letting it materialize fully, before recalling it. “Your familiar should flow back into you when not needed, become one with your power rather than a constant drain.”

“How?”

“Look at it.”

She turns her head, focusing on the mist stalker.

“It’s not separate from you. It’s an extension, formed from specific aspects of your power.

Feel the connection between you. Not with your hands, but with your awareness.

The familiar is linked to you by channels of energy, the same silver light that flows beneath your skin.

Imagine those channels of power reversing direction.

You’re not trying to sever the connection, but changing its flow.

The familiar doesn’t disappear, it returns to its source. ”

She closes her eyes again, and her brow furrows in concentration. The glow around her brightens as she focuses on the mist stalker. For several seconds nothing happens, then the creature’s form begins to shimmer, its edges becoming less defined.

“That’s it.” I move closer, drawn to her.

“It’s not about forcing control, it’s about recognition.

The familiar is you, extended outward. Bring it home.

” My hand lifts, almost touching her shoulder, then stops, caught between instinct and restraint.

The urge to guide her through physical contact is strong, unusual , a desire for connection that has nothing to do with the practical purposes of this lesson.

The mist stalker moves toward her, each step making it less substantial, more energy than form. The silver light creates patterns, tendrils reaching out and drawing the familiar back to its source.

When it finally touches her, its form dissolves into pure silver energy that flows beneath her skin, merging with the power already there. The light flares briefly, then settles.

Ellie gasps, her eyes popping open. “I can feel it,” she whispers. “Inside. Not gone, just … part of me now.”

“You should be able to call it out when you need it, and recall it when you don’t. The constant drain on your power will lessen, giving you better control over the light.”

She looks at her hands, turning them over to examine the silver light now flowing in more defined patterns. “It feels … organized now. Less chaotic.”

“The familiar will help you direct the power. The storm energy that awakened in you at River Crossing is wild by nature. The familiar will provide focus.”

I can feel a pull toward her that has nothing to do with power, and everything to do with the connection that’s been forming between us since the tower. I take a step back, putting some distance between us.

“Thank you.” She lifts her head to look at me. “What will you do now?”

I don’t hesitate. “The Authority must fall. Sereven must answer for what he’s done. Not only to me, but everyone he’s destroyed because of his hunger for Veinblood power, while publicly condemning it must end.”

“And you’ll kill anyone who stands in your way.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t treat it as one. “Yes.”

She studies me for a long moment, silver light casting strange patterns across her face.

“What happens when it’s over?” The question comes quietly. “If you succeed in destroying the Authority, in killing Sereven, in accomplishing everything you’re planning … what then?”

The question catches me unprepared. I’ve spent twenty-seven years focused on escape, on survival, on resistance.

The future beyond victory isn’t something I’ve allowed myself to consider.

To do so would have been a dangerous indulgence in the tower, a distraction from the single-minded focus required to survive.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. The admission feels strangely vulnerable. Vengeance has always been enough. The only future I permitted myself to imagine. Now standing here with her, possibilities I never considered hover just beyond reach. “That’s a question for whoever survives to see it.”

She studies me, the silver in her eyes catching the moonlight. The way she stares makes me feel transparent, as though she can see all the ways I’ve held myself together over the years. “Do you expect to die in this war?”

“I expect to finish what was started.” The words come automatically, the answer I’ve given myself countless times. “Whatever the cost. If my death is required, then that’s what I will give.”

“And that doesn’t frighten you? The idea of dying when you’ve gotten free?”

“There are worse things than death.”

She shakes her head, looking away.

“We should go back inside.”

She hesitates, clearly wanting to say more, but then nods. I fall into step beside her as we walk back to the entrance to the underground chamber.

“Will you wake someone to take over the watch?”

“No. You all need rest more than I do.”

When we reach the underground space, I pause in the doorway and look around.

The fighters are all spread out around the chamber, most on the ground with no mat separating them from the cold stone.

I extend a hand, shadows flowing onward in controlled streams. They spread out beneath each sleeping form, creating cushions of darkness that contour perfectly to tired bodies.

Several of them stir briefly, but don’t wake, before settling down into the unexpected comfort.

I turn to find Ellie watching me, surprise coating her face.

“There is no reason for them to be uncomfortable when I can make their rest easier.”

Her gaze moves from the sleeping figures back to me. “You always surprise me.”

I direct the shadows to the far corner, where they form a larger cushion.

“Thank you for showing me … About my familiar … and all the things that happened with the Authority.”

“You needed to understand.”

She looks at me, studying my face. Whatever she finds, or doesn’t find, seems to satisfy her. She gives a small nod, then stretches out on the shadow cushion.

“Would you mind …” she licks her lips. “Can you stay nearby? After spending so long …” She doesn’t finish the sentence, and I don’t ask her to explain.

She’s spent days lying beside me, holding me back from death, and adjusting to the change is not easy.

I sink down on the shadow, leaving her space, and lean my back against the wall.

She stretches out beside me, facing away, but as sleep begins to claim her, she gradually shifts closer, unconsciously seeking warmth or security.

By the time her breathing is slow and steady, she’s curled up against my side, her hand resting on my thigh.

The simple weight of her touch anchors me to the present in a way I’ve never experienced.

I remain still, allowing her this comfort while my mind works through what needs to be our next steps.

The Authority could be searching for us, marshaling forces to recapture the Shadowvein Lord they thought they’d broken.

When they come, and they will come, I need to be ready.

My fingers lightly brush against Ellie’s arm when she makes a small sound.

She settles as soon as I touch her, her face turning toward me.

I owe this woman more than she knows. More than I know how to express.

She came for me when I was broken beyond repair.

She defied death itself to bring me back.

In the quiet darkness, with her breathing steady beside me, I allow myself to acknowledge what I’ve been avoiding since Ashenvale. She matters to me. Not as a tool. Not as a weapon. But as herself.

Complicated, stubborn, compassionate Ellie.

When dawn comes, we’ll begin the next phase of this war. Sereven will answer for what he’s done.

I have never been more certain of anything in my life. Except, perhaps, that I will not let her pay the price for my vengeance.