Page 52 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

“She confirmed it,” he says when Lisandra stays silent.

His voice sends a sliver of fear up my spine. It’s cold, emotionless, and eerily calm. The voice of a man who has moved beyond anger to something far more deadly.

“She passed information to Sereven before you rode for Glassfall Gap.” His head swings around, eyes meeting Varam’s. “Before Ashenvale.”

The meaning hangs in the air. Every horror that followed Ashenvale’s ambush can be traced back to this single point of betrayal. All of it stemmed from this woman’s choice.

Varam’s expression hardens. His hand moves to his sword, fingers wrapping around the hilt, then falls away as discipline reasserts itself. Years as a Veinwarden have taught him control, but even that lifetime of training barely contains the fury flowing from him in almost visible waves.

“ Why?” He faces Lisandra. “After everything we’ve fought for, after all our sacrifices, after all the lives we’ve lost … after what they did to him … why? ”

“To protect Stonehaven.” She lifts her chin slightly, a ghost of her former confidence returning. “Sereven threatened to destroy everyone here unless I cooperated.”

“And you believed him?” Varam’s voice is rich with contempt.

“He knows where we are. He’s always known.” Her eyes jump from Varam to Sacha and back again. “Our defenses. Our numbers. He has enough soldiers at his disposal to make good on his threat. Haven’t you ever wondered why he never made a move against us? I made the only choice I could.”

I watch Sacha while their exchange unfolds.

He doesn’t move, not even a blink, his gaze never leaving Lisandra.

I’ve seen him focused before, but this is different.

His attention isn’t just intense, it’s as though nothing else in the universe exists outside of this moment in time.

As though he could stand there for days, unmoving, the perfect embodiment of patience.

“What are you going to do with her?” Varam turns to Sacha.

I can guess what Varam is thinking. I might not have been in Meridian long, but I have no doubt they follow the same rules as any other I’ve learned through Earth’s blood-soaked history.

The typical punishment for traitors during wartime is execution—swift, public, and without mercy.

A lesson written in blood for others to remember.

I can’t see mercy being shown to those who betray their own. The Veinwardens can’t afford to, not when survival depends on absolute loyalty. Not when the Authority hunts them with such relentless purpose. Not when a single betrayal can unravel years of sacrifice.

I hold my breath, waiting for Sacha’s reply.

“She has a meeting to attend with Sereven,” he says finally. “At Blackstone Ridge. Three days from now.”

Varam looks from Sacha to Lisandra and back again. “A trap?”

“For someone, yes.”

“I won’t help you ambush Sereven,” Lisandra says. She pushes away from the wall, then freezes when Sacha’s attention sharpens. “You’ll be walking into a massacre. I can’t let that happen. He’ll have guards, scouts, and backups. They’ll kill you.”

“That wasn’t your concern when you sent them to ambush me at Ashenvale.” The temperature in the room seems to drop by several degrees with each word. “Or when you arranged for my rescuers to be slaughtered, rather than free me from torture.”

My mind flashes to his body in that cage—bloody, broken, barely alive. The fever-heat of his skin beneath my palm. The ragged sound of his breathing. The wounds that wouldn’t heal, oozing with infection. The brands burned into his flesh.

“That was different! I’m not helping you walk to your own death.”

“Your cooperation isn’t required.” Sacha’s voice is low, hard. “Only your presence.”

His meaning is clear. She’ll be there one way or another, willing or not.

I shiver, remembering what I’ve seen his shadows do to a human body.

How they can bend it, break it, and tear through it like paper.

I have no doubt they could control it too, if necessary, turning Lisandra into nothing more than a puppet dancing on strings of darkness.

“We need to secure her somewhere private,” Varam says. “If word of her betrayal spreads before we can contain it?—”

“There will be chaos, I know.” Sacha finishes for him. “Which will not serve our purpose.”

“Where?” The question bursts out of me, and all eyes turn in my direction.

“Where can you keep her? Everyone knows who she is. You can’t walk her through Stonehaven and lock her in a cell.

People will ask questions. What will it do to them if they learn one of their most respected leaders betrayed you?

That the person they trusted with their safety sold them out? ”

“There’s a chamber beneath my quarters. Access through the back wall. It was designed for this kind of situation—holding someone the general inhabitants shouldn’t have access to.”

Of course there is . I should have known that he would have already thought about it. It’s how he’s survived for as long as he has, always three steps ahead of everyone else. The perfect predator, patient, and prepared.

“I’ll pick out guards we can trust. Fighters who were with us at Glassfall Gap,” Varam says. “Those who saw firsthand what her betrayal cost us.”

“Agreed.” Sacha moves toward Lisandra, who presses herself back against the wall. “But first, there is still information I need to know.”

The shadows around him swirl, becoming more substantial, responding to some unspoken command. Goosebumps rise along my arms.

“Varam, secure the outer chamber. Make sure no one interrupts us.” Sacha’s tone leaves no room for argument. “Ellie, stay. I may need your assistance.”

I blink, surprise overriding everything else. “ What ? Me?”

Varam hesitates for a second, then nods and moves to the door. The look he gives Lisandra contains a lifetime of betrayal. All those years of shared struggles, and sacrifice, all rendered meaningless by her choices. When the door closes behind him, the tension in the room increases.

“What are you going to do?” The words are barely more than a whisper.

“Whatever is necessary.”

He turns toward me, and for a moment I think I see something flicker beneath the hardness in his eyes. No doubt, never that, but awareness. Recognition that the path he’s choosing will have consequences. That I am witnessing this side of him, and that it matters to him what I see.

As the shadows continue to move around him, I wonder what necessary means to him now. What is he willing to sacrifice of himself for what he thinks is the greater good?

“Tell me about your contact.” His attention switches to Lisandra. “The one who carries your messages to Sereven.”

Her eyes dart to the door. The raven on Sacha’s shoulder tilts its head at this small movement, then parts its beak and lets out a sound.

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard it make a noise, and it’s not the caw of a natural raven.

It’s something deeper, darker, more chilling.

A sound that seems to bypass the ears and sink directly into the soul.

The sound of death itself. Lisandra turns white, her lips bloodless, her eyes wide with terror.

“His name is Merek.” She rubs at her arms where the dark vein-like patterns are still faintly visible. “He commands a small unit that patrols along the northeastern paths.”

“How do you contact him?”

“There’s a hollow tree at the fork in Stillwater Stream.” She talks quickly, desperate to answer his questions. “I leave a marker … a small stone with a red cross. His scouts check there daily.”

He nods. “And how do you receive his replies?”

“Same location, different signal. A broken arrow shaft left beneath the lowest branch. If urgent, the feathers are still attached.”

The exchange sounds like a simple conversation, but the tension in the room tells a different story.

Shadows cling to Sacha, in constant motion as they move around his body, and Lisandra’s eyes keep darting to them as if expecting them to strike at any moment.

Sweat beads her forehead despite the chill in the room.

She’s answering readily, without any resistance at all.

Whatever Sacha did to her before we arrived broke any defiance she had left.

“When did you last communicate with him?” His question comes with deceptive gentleness.

“This morning,” she admits after a second’s hesitation, her fingers working nervously at her sleeve. “As soon as word reached me of your return to Stonehaven.”

“And what did you tell him?” The question is delivered in a silky tone that sends my heartbeat into overdrive. Something about that soft voice is infinitely more terrifying than a shout could ever be.

Lisandra swallows, clearly feeling the same tension as me. “I told him that you’d been rescued, but you were dying. That the infection from your wounds was spreading despite all efforts to combat it. That it was only a matter of days, maybe even hours, before you died.”

“And his response?” The raven shifts on his shoulder.

“That’s when I received the instructions to verify your condition, and bring proof to Blackstone Ridge.”

Sacha nods. “The captain … does he operate alone, or does he report to anyone?”

“Directly to Sereven.” Her voice steadies slightly as she provides factual information, a commander reporting to her superior, despite her fear. “He’s part of the High Commander’s personal guard, temporarily assigned to border patrol to maintain our arrangement. Handpicked for discretion.”

“How many men in his unit?”

“Eight that I’ve seen. Possibly more.”

“And at Blackstone Ridge? How many will be waiting there?”

Lisandra hesitates, and the shadows around Sacha flow outward, forming wings at his back. He doesn’t move, doesn’t threaten, but the message is clear.

Answer, or pay the price.

“I don’t know the exact number.” The words tumble over each other. “But Sereven will be there. He’ll want to verify your death personally.”