Page 41 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

I shake my head. His words solidify my decision. I’m determined to do this on my own, to prove I am as capable as everyone else, and to try and keep some small distance from this new, harder version of Sacha.

The first few stones are easy enough, my feet finding purchase on the rough surface.

But halfway across, sunlight glints off patches of moss growing slick and green.

My confidence wavers. My foot slides as I land on one, arms pinwheeling as the river rushes beneath me.

Before I can fall, shadows materialize like smoke, wrapping around my wrist with surprising gentleness, pulling me upright.

A warm hand slides around my waist, and I find myself pulled back into a solid body.

The contact sends a jolt through me that has nothing to do with fear of falling.

“I’ve got you.” Sacha’s voice is soft against my ear, his breath warm on my neck. For a brief moment, he sounds like himself again. The man before the torture, the one I was beginning to?—

I cut off that thought before it finishes forming.

My heart is hammering against my ribs, and I can’t tell if it’s from the near fall or his proximity.

His arm remains firm around my waist, shadows tethering me to him like ribbons, until we reach the opposite bank.

The river rushes on beside us, oblivious to the storm of confusion inside me.

As soon as I step off the final stone, his shadows dissolve into wisps, and his hand falls away. The abrupt loss of contact leaves me strangely cold. I glance back at him, but he’s not looking at me, half turned toward Varam, as though the moment never happened.

The rain falls harder.

Eventually, Sacha leads us to a small cave tucked into a hillside.

It’s not large, but it offers protection from the downpour.

No one asks how he knew it was there. I think I know, though.

The shadows he commands are more than weapons and extensions of his will.

He can see through them, sense where they are.

I’m confident that his awareness told him the cave was here.

“We’ll stay here tonight. Dry off, and …” He glances at me, “... hope the rain lets up before morning.”

We all duck inside. The cave widens once we’re through the entrance, giving us a little more room than expected.

Some gather at the entrance to watch the downpour.

I find a spot near the back wall, trying to wring water from my soaked clothes.

A violent shiver runs through me as the wind catches on the entrance and blasts through.

Sacha moves through the group, speaking quietly to each fighter.

They dip their heads and move further inside.

Without another word, he looks at the cave’s entrance.

Shadows flow from his fingertips, weaving into a dense barrier that completely seals the opening.

The howling wind cuts off abruptly, leaving only the muffled sound of the rain.

He turns to me. “Better?”

I nod, still shivering. My clothes cling to my skin, heavy with rainwater. He tilts his head.

“You should change into something dry.”

“Wasn’t exactly prepared for spending days out in the wilderness.” My teeth are chattering. “Everything in my pack is just as wet.”

He studies me for a moment, then lifts a hand. Shadows flow over his palm, coalescing into three dense spheres. I recognize the shape. It’s similar to the one he created during our journey through the desert. His lips move, forming words barely audible even in the sudden quiet of the cave.

“ Asha’valen. Dosmira. Kelth.”

The spheres respond, their centers glowing. He sends two across the chamber and brings the third closer to me. Heat radiates out from it, driving away the chill, but with my clothes so wet, I can’t stop shivering.

Before I can back away, he lifts a hand and presses a single finger beneath my chin, tipping my face up to his. His touch is unexpectedly warm against my cold skin.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the cave, the fighters, everything falls away.

“ Dosmira ,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over my lips.

Warmth spreads from his fingertip, traveling across my skin, seeping downward through my clothes. The moisture lifts, the fabric drying. It feels too intimate. Invisible fingers tracing paths along my ribs, my waist, and lower … caressing places that make my breath hitch.

My lips part, and I have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. The warmth doesn’t just dry my clothes, it awakens every nerve ending, leaving me hyper-aware of the way the heat curves around my breasts, and slides down my spine like a lover’s touch.

His head tilts, eyes tracking over my face, and then his finger moves, tracing along my jaw, and over my lips before dropping away.

The spell breaks, but the heat remains, pooling in the pit of my stomach and between my thighs. I stare at him, filled with a confused tangle of feelings I’m not ready to examine.

“The rain would stop, too, if you weren’t so upset with me.” The comment is delivered in such a casual tone as he turns to look at the rest of the cavern, that I almost miss it.

I frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He takes a step away.

“No.” I surge forward, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “You don’t get to say something like that and then walk away from me. What are you talking about?”

He looks down at my fingers wrapped around his wrist, a brief frown creasing his forehead, then back up to my face. “Haven’t you noticed the pattern? The storm at the river when I fell? How many other storms have there been between then and now?”

“It’s just weather. Varam said winter is coming. Storms happen.”

“I told you before that emotion can affect your power.”

I release his wrist. “Lightning, yes. But you’re …” I blink. “Are you telling me I’m causing the rain?”

“Not consciously, but yes. Your emotions feed the storm, strengthen it.” He glances toward the shadow barrier holding back the rain and wind. “Your frustration, your exhaustion …” His lips twitch. “Your annoyance. They find expression.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I shake my head. “The light is inside me. I can feel it moving. But rain is … weather. It’s a natural phenomenon.”

“You don’t believe you’re capable of that.” It’s not a question.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” But I know what I don’t believe … that I somehow control the weather with my moods like some kind of human barometer!

He gives me a long look, then lifts one hand. Shadows pool in his palm. “I am Shadowvein.” Reaching out, he takes my hand and turns it palm-up. “ You are Stormvein.”

“Okay …”

He sighs. “I can control shadows, which is why Shadowvein. Tideveins controlled water. Flameveins, fire. Earthveins, earth.” One eyebrow lifts. “What do you think Stormvein controls, Mel’shira?”

“Storms. I get that … Lightning, maybe thunder.”

“What else forms part of a storm? Wind, hail, snow possibly, and …” One eyebrow hikes. “Rain.”

When he puts it like that …

“Try calming yourself. See what happens to the rain.”

“Just … what? Think happy thoughts and the rain will go away?” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Should I clap if I believe in fairies too?”

The hint of a smile that’s been teasing his lips breaks through, and one corner of his mouth kicks up. “I don’t know what fairies are.”

Of course, that’s what he focuses on.

“Sit.” He waves a hand, and shadows pool, turning into a raised cushion of darkness.

He waits until I’ve lowered myself, and then sits across from me.

“Not happy thoughts, Ellie. Calm. Centered. Your power responds to your emotional state. Learn to control one, and you’ll gain mastery over the other.”

I want to argue more, to dismiss his theory, but curiosity wins out. I close my eyes, focusing on my breathing, trying to find the calm center I tried to locate in yoga classes back in Chicago.

In. Out. In. Out.

As my heartbeat steadies, I become aware of something else—a resonance between the rhythm of my breath and the pattering of rain against stone. When my breath quickens, the rainfall intensifies. When I slow it down, the drops become less frequent.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, opening my eyes, and finding Sacha’s gaze on me. “It is me.”

Sacha nods. “Another aspect of your power. One you can learn to control rather than being controlled by it.”

“How did you know?”

“Being rained on after annoying you earlier was a clear giveaway.” The dry note in his voice makes his amusement clear.

“But the first clue was after Ashenvale. When I faced Sereven. The storm came too suddenly, the lightning struck the soldiers, but didn’t touch me. No natural storm behaves that way.”

“So now I control the weather.” I wanted it to sound skeptical, but it comes out more like resignation. “Anything else I should know about it?”

“Probably.” That smile appears again. “We’re in uncharted territory, Ellie. Everything that’s happened between us—Ashenvale, River Crossing, the healing … it all defies explanation.”

I fight not to blush at his mention of Ashenvale.

Outside, the rain has gentled to a steady patter rather than the driving downpour of before. I can feel the connection now that I’m aware of it—a tether between my emotional state and the intensity of the storm.

“Can I stop it entirely?”

“I would imagine so, with time and practice. For now, it’ll appear with your emotions, and leave when it’s run its course.”

“Great,” I mutter. “So now I’m causing storms when I’m upset. Another thing I didn’t ask for in this world.”

“Power rarely asks for permission.” His voice is soft. I’m not entirely sure he’s still talking about the storm. “But understanding it helps.”

Varam comes over. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we should discuss how we want to approach Stonehaven tomorrow.”

Sacha nods and rises. “Practice,” he tells me, before walking with Varam to a secluded area away from everyone else.

I look toward the sealed entrance where rain still falls, gentler now, steady rather than raging. Just like my emotions.

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. This power that was awakened at River Crossing, that’s grown stronger since Sacha’s healing, it’s not only about light or familiars. It’s connected to elements, to weather, to the storm.

Stormvein .

I focus on the sensation of the rain falling beyond the cave, imagining the drops slowing, the clouds thinning.

To my amazement, the sound of rainfall diminishes further.

Power rushes through me, different from the light.

It’s cooler, more fluid, but unmistakably mine to command.

It isn’t separate from me, but an extension of my will.

Across the cave, Sacha’s eyes meet mine over Varam’s shoulder. For a heartbeat, his mask slips, and he offers me a genuine smile, a flash of pride, and something warmer that makes my breath catch, before he replies to whatever the other man is saying.

Tomorrow, we’ll return to Stonehaven. Tomorrow, we’ll face whatever waits for us there. A traitor hidden among allies, the next phase of a conflict I didn’t choose but can no longer avoid. And Sacha will continue his dangerous game, using himself as bait for enemies we can’t see.

But tonight, I’ve gained something valuable. Knowledge and understanding. A piece of control over powers that constantly seem random and overwhelming. The storm responds to me, the same way that Sacha’s shadows obey him.

Whatever happens at Stonehaven, I’ll face it with more than blind hope. I’ll face it with growing mastery over abilities I’m only beginning to understand. Abilities that might play a part in whatever is coming.

And maybe, in time, I’ll understand the man in front of me. The Shadowvein Lord, the Vareth’el, who returned from the brink of death with vengeance in his eyes, and secrets I’ve yet to uncover.