Page 49 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

ELLIE

Magic without intention is grief without voice.

Writings of the Veinblood Masters

I’ve never felt so trapped between two people in my entire life.

The air in the room is thick with tension, with unspoken threats, with secrets about to break the surface.

My heart hammers against my ribs when Lisandra surges past me and drops to her knees beside Sacha’s bed, her sword discarded on the floor beside her.

“What happened at Ashenvale … It was my fault.”

The chamber feels small, the walls pressing in around me as Lisandra’s confession hangs in the air. I stand at the end of the bed, caught between wanting to intervene and needing to hear what she’s about to say.

Lisandra’s face is a map of conflicting emotions as she looks at Sacha’s seemingly unconscious form.

Guilt, fear, resignation. I can see all three emotions moving across her face in quick succession from where I’m standing.

Her hands shake where they rest on the edge of the bed, her fingers clutching the blanket.

The commander of Stonehaven, the woman who has led the Veinwardens here for years, the leader who refused to listen when I demanded we search for Sacha. I see none of those versions of the woman on her knees in front of me.

“I gave them everything.” Her words cut through the silence of the room. “Who was traveling with you. Your plan to retrieve your ring. Your meeting point once you had it. I handed it all to Sereven. He knew exactly where to find you because I told him.”

A gasp escapes me before I can stop it. The power inside me tries to burst free, and I have to fight to contain it, to keep it from striking her down. The significance of what she’s saying crashes over me all at once.

She betrayed Sacha to Sereven. She’s the reason the Authority knew where to find him at River Crossing. She’s the reason for everything that followed.

I want to speak, to demand explanations, to ask how she could do this to someone she claims to follow, but my voice is trapped in my throat. All I can do is stand here, a witness to this confession that changes everything I thought I knew about her.

Lisandra keeps going, as if she can’t stop now that she’s started.

Her words flow faster, tumbling over each other in her haste to get them out.

“He threatened to destroy Stonehaven. Said he’d level it to ash, kill everyone inside.

I thought I was buying time. I thought if I gave you back to them, they would take you back to the tower …

I didn’t know what they’d do to you.” Her voice chokes on the words, a strangled sound catching in her throat.

The tears that have been welling in her eyes begin to spill over. Her hands release the blanket only to clutch at it again, the repetitive movement betraying her agitation.

“I swear, I didn’t know what they’d do to you.” The horror in her voice seems genuine, but I can’t reconcile it with her betrayal.

Does she truly expect us to believe she thought the Authority would be merciful?

That they would simply lock him away without any form of punishment?

After everything the Veinwardens have witnessed, after everything they’ve fought against?

How could anyone hand over a person to the Authority and not expect the worst?

Even I knew, with my limited knowledge of them, what they would do to Sacha.

She’s crying now, full body shaking, tears streaming down her face.

This isn’t the composed commander of Stonehaven anymore.

This isn’t even the woman who drew a sword on me moments ago.

This is someone broken by her own choices, by a secret carried too long.

The facade of control has completely crumbled, leaving only guilt exposed.

“By the time I realized they intended to take you to Blackvault, I was trapped too deep in deceit and lies. I had no choice but to tell them about the attempted rescue.”

The admission stops me cold, and for a moment, I go dizzy while my mind races to process what she said. She knew all about the rescue plan for Glassfall Gap. She heard what the Authority captain told us they’d planned for Sacha at Blackvault. And she still warned Sereven.

All those Authority soldiers waiting for us, the trap that nearly cost Sacha his life … that did cost two fighters their lives … It wasn't bad luck or poor planning. It was her. She betrayed us all.

And not just one betrayal, but two that I know of. How many more are there? How many times in the past has she chosen to give the Authority information? How long would it have gone on if Sacha hadn’t survived? How many more fighters would have died because of information she fed to the enemy?

She swallows a sob, her shoulders shaking, and her body seems to collapse in on itself. She buries her head into the blanket beside Sacha’s hand and breaks down, missing the shift in the air.

But I don’t. The fine hairs on my arms and the back of my neck lift. The shadows in the corners draw in. The temperature drops. A chill runs up my spine. Even the torch flame seems to dim.

The illusion of death falls away from Sacha like water.

It dissolves into wisps of darkness that curl and dissipate in the air.

One moment he appears to be a dying man—gaunt, pale, barely breathing—and the next he’s sitting upright, eyes open and focused on Lisandra.

The change is so sudden, so complete, that even I take a step back.

“You betrayed me.” His voice is cold, hard, and promises consequences.

Lisandra’s head snaps up, and she scrambles to her feet, stumbling back from the bed.

Horror contorts her face as she stares at Sacha, fully healed and very much alive.

Her sword remains on the floor where she discarded it, now out of reach.

The sound of her back hitting the wall echoes around the room.

“You … You’re …” She stares at him, unable to complete the thought, her face drained of all color. She looks like she’s seen a ghost, which, in a way, she has. The man she believed was dying before her eyes is standing now, radiating power and fury.

“Not dead?” His voice is silky. “You would be correct.”

The smooth, controlled way he rises from the bed contradicts every expectation she must have had. There’s no weakness, no illness, no trace of the damaged man she thought she was confessing to. Just Sacha, the Vareth’el, in his full power and terrible focus.

She recoils from him, pressing herself against the wall as if she’s trying to melt into the stone. Her eyes are wide, darting between Sacha and the door. I brace, waiting for her to try and leave. But there’s nowhere to run. No way to evade the consequences of what she’s done.

“How is this possible?” Her gaze jumps from Sacha to me, and back again. I can see the moment realization hits her … that I’ve been part of this deception, that I knew he was healed all along.

Sacha ignores her question. His voice, when he speaks, is terrifyingly calm. “Why, Lisandra? Why betray everything we stand for?”

He stalks toward her, shadows following him, darkening the floor where he walks.

It’s not a display of power, not really.

It’s the natural manifestation of his anger, his control tested by the magnitude of this betrayal.

They move across his skin, pulling outward in beaks and claws and teeth, reaching toward Lisandra, before settling back against him.

Her back straightens, a flash of defiance breaking through her fear. “I had no choice. Sereven would have killed everyone. I had to protect Stonehaven.”

The justification sounds weak to me. My teeth bite into my lip to stop myself from speaking out.

“By sacrificing me?” The lack of anger in his voice makes it more frightening than if he were shouting. “By sending fighters knowingly into an ambush?”

I think about Ashenvale. The way he was ambushed. The torture he suffered. Then Glassfall Gap, and the fighters who died there. Lives lost and blood spilled, all because of her.

“I never wanted anyone to die!” Her hands lift, stretched out in front of her. “I thought they would simply recapture you.”

“What you thought doesn’t matter.” Sacha steps forward, the movement graceful and menacing. “What you did does.”

The stark simplicity of his response silences her protests. All her justifications, all her excuses, mean nothing against the reality of what she chose to do. The consequences of her actions have unfolded regardless of her intentions, leaving a trail of death and suffering in their wake.

The distance between them shrinks with each word, the tension in the room ratcheting higher.

I hold my breath, uncertain what Sacha will do.

I’ve seen his control, his strategic mind, but I’ve also witnessed flashes of the darkness that burns beneath.

The capacity for vengeance that drives him.

The ruthlessness he’s capable of when pushed too far.

The violence his shadows can commit with one whispered word.

“Tell me what Sereven wants you to do next.” His tone warns that he won’t allow argument or evasion.

Lisandra hesitates, clearly weighing how much to reveal. Her eyes dart around the room, looking for escape, but there is none. Not from this confrontation, and not from the consequences of her actions. She’s trapped by her own choices, cornered by a truth she can no longer hide.

“The truth, Lisandra.” Each syllable of her name drips with contempt.

Her shoulders slump, the fight leaving her body. “He wants proof,” she whispers. “Proof you’re dead.”

“What kind of proof?”

“Something undeniable.” Her voice drops even lower. “Your head. Delivered to Blackstone Ridge three days from now.” She swallows, licking her lips. “Or you … if you returned to Stonehaven alive.”

The casual way she’s talking about delivering his head, or his living body, to his enemies, as if he were a package to be delivered rather than a person, chills my blood. My stomach turns at the thought of her handing him over to Sereven. To more torture, to a fate worse than death.

“Is that why you came with a blade? Not to confess, but to collect?”

I can’t breathe, my lungs aching with the need for air, while I wait for her answer. I already suspect what the truth is. The sword she brought, the urgency of her visit, her insistence on seeing Sacha alone. All of it points to a darker purpose than simply confession.

She shakes her head. “No! No, I swear. I wasn’t—” She falters, the denial dying on her lips. “I don’t know what I was going to do.”

The half-admission is damning in its uncertainty. It isn’t a firm denial, but a confession that she herself doesn’t know what she might have been capable of. What she might have done if confronted with a dying Sacha and the opportunity to complete her mission for Sereven.

“You came to assess.” Sacha stops less than two steps away from her. “To see if I was as close to death as I looked, or if your orders needed … a firmer hand.”

She doesn’t deny it. She doesn’t even try . Tears slide silently down her face, each one an acknowledgement of the truth in his words. Her silence condemns her more effectively than an admission could.

“Would you have at least done me the courtesy of being the one to spill my blood, to take my life?”

Her silence stretches for one heartbeat, then another.

Finally, she gives one shallow nod, an admission that makes nausea rise up my throat.

The confirmation is somehow worse than I expected.

The commander of Stonehaven came to end Sacha’s life.

Executioner for the Authority. The thought is sickening.

“You don’t understand. If I fail to appear, or the proof isn’t convincing ...” Her voice shakes with each word. “Sereven will move against Stonehaven.”

If what she says is true, then Stonehaven and everyone in it are in danger. The last stronghold of the Veinwardens, the sanctuary that has stood against the Authority for decades, is threatened not by external enemies but by betrayal from within.

Sacha’s features harden further, shadows gathering at his fingertips. “Who else is part of this?”

“No one.”

“I want the truth.” The command is quiet.

She seems to shrink further. “No one in Stonehaven. Sereven has a captain … a courier who carries messages between us.”

“And?”

She lifts her chin, some remnant of pride or defiance surfacing through her fear. “That’s it. There is no one else!”

The assertion rings through the room, desperate in its insistence. Whether it’s true or not, I can’t tell. Is she protecting others? Or is she truly the only traitor within Stonehaven’s walls?

“The same captain the scouts captured?” The words leave me before I can stop them.

“Yes.” Her reply is a whisper. “Once you left for Glassfall Gap, I released him and sent him to inform Sereven of your plan.”

Sacha doesn’t speak immediately. Instead, his gaze shifts to me. And in that moment, I can see what he’s thinking. This isn’t about personal vengeance for him. This is about the Veinwardens. About trust and betrayal.

“Find Varam. Bring him here. Say only that it’s urgent.”

My gaze moves from him to Lisandra and back again. I don’t need to voice my concern. I’m confident he can see it in my face.

Are you going to kill her the second I leave?

He gives a slight shake of his head. The gesture is subtle, but I understand the message. He won’t kill her. Not yet, anyway.

“I’ll be quick.”