Page 54 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

Chapter Twenty-Five

SACHA

What listens in the dark does not always wait to be called.

Writings of the Flamevein Oracles

I have three days until Lisandra meets Sereven at Blackstone Ridge. Three days to turn what should be the delivery of my body, alive or dead, into the beginning of the end for the Authority. And for the man who orchestrated my imprisonment, my torture, and my intended destruction.

A map lies flat on the table in front of me, its inked lines outlining routes and locations I’ve committed to memory.

After decades of imprisonment in the tower, then the days of torture that should have broken me, my path forward has never been clearer.

The shadows inside me pulse with anticipation, hungry for what comes next.

Ellie is standing beside me, eyes studying the map. Her fingers trace the route to Blackstone Ridge, lingering on the narrow pass where the meeting will take place. I can almost hear her thinking as she tries to figure out what my intentions are.

“You said you have something in mind.” She breaks the silence. “What is it?”

I study her—the tension in her shoulders, the shadow of exhaustion beneath her eyes, the determined set of her jaw that hasn’t softened since discovering Lisandra’s betrayal.

It’s clear the betrayal has cut her deeply, not only because of what it meant for me, but because it has challenged her growing sense of belonging among the Veinwardens.

“Sereven expects Lisandra to bring confirmation that I’m no longer a threat, either my head or my body.” My voice remains steady, controlled. “Instead, the message she delivers will be something entirely different.”

“And that will be?”

“That I’m alive, healed, and coming for him.” I tap the map where Blackstone Ridge stands marked, my fingers brushing against hers. “Lisandra won’t travel alone. I’ll be there every step of the way. Sereven believes he destroyed me. I intend to show him how thoroughly he failed.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re going to face him, after what he did to you?”

“This is the perfect moment to strike.” My fingers move along the path. “The Authority’s High Commander believes me dead, or too broken to pose a threat. He will be focused on Lisandra and whatever proof she’s bringing of my demise. He won’t be expecting me, restored to my full power.”

“And Lisandra? What happens to her in this plan? Won’t he kill her?”

“She made her choice when she sold me to the Authority. Now she will serve my purpose.”

Her head lifts, and her eyes move over my face, a slight frown pulling her brows together. “You sound so detached about it all. After everything she did … what they did to you?—”

“Detachment doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten.” I meet her gaze. “It means I can see clearly now. More clearly than I have in years.”

“And what do you see?”

“Justice.” The word feels right on my tongue. “The Authority has held power through fear and persecution for too long. Sereven has personally overseen the destruction of entire bloodlines. He will do the same to everyone in Stonehaven, simply because they welcomed me back.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve whatever is coming. I’m …” She bites into her bottom lip, then nods as though she’s come to a decision. “Since finding you in that cage … something feels different.”

“With me?”

“Yes. The way you speak about vengeance, about justice. There’s something more … I don’t know. You seem harder.”

I don’t deny it. There would be no point. Death and rebirth have stripped away all pretense, leaving only essential truths behind. “And that concerns you?”

She considers my question, then shakes her head.

“No. What concerns me is how easily I understand it. How readily I accept it.” She takes a deep breath.

“Before coming to this world, I’d have been horrified at the thought of using someone as bait.

Now I can’t stop thinking about what Lisandra caused, how you suffered because of her choices, and I—” She looks down at her hands, light rippling in chaotic patterns across her knuckles, betraying her inner turmoil.

“And you what?” I prompt softly.

“And I want her to pay for it.” Her voice is quiet, brittle with honesty.

“That makes me a bad person, doesn’t it?

Is that who I am now?” Her eyes search mine, looking for an answer I’m not certain I can give.

The woman who stepped into the tower would never have understood this kind of retribution.

I turn fully to face her, studying the changes in her face. The silver in her eyes has grown more pronounced, no longer flecks but swirls that catch the light.

“You’ve seen the consequences of her decisions. You watched me dying because of what she did.” She flinches at my words. “Understanding the true cost of betrayal doesn’t make you a bad person, Mel’shira. It makes you someone who has learned what survival in this world requires.”

“I found you in that cage, Sacha.” Her voice drops lower. “I saw what they’d done to you. I watched infection spread through your body. I felt your life slipping away with every breath you struggled to take.” Her exhale is shaky. “It changes a person.”

The fire in the hearth flares, responding to her emotional state and casting shadows across her face.

Not for the first time, I find myself tracking the lines of her features, the subtle shifts in her expression that betray her thoughts.

When she appeared in the tower, I thought her a strange looking creature, but now …

she’s beautiful in ways I can’t even begin to explain.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m thinking about how you continue to surprise me.” Few have ever managed that. Few have ever broken through the distance I keep. Survival requires detachment. Leadership requires distance. And yet this woman keeps finding ways past every barrier I construct.

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“It’s … inconvenient.” My lips twitch. “But not unwelcome.”

A smile curls her lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

Her expression turns more serious. “When this is over, what happens then?”

“The Authority’s network extends beyond Sereven. Their control needs to be completely dismantled. But once the head of the snake has been cut off, destroying the body is easier.”

She gives a small shake of her head. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?”

“What do you want? After the revenge, after the justice. What do you want for yourself?”

The question catches me off guard with its directness. No one has asked me that in a long time, perhaps ever. My fingers still on the map, their motion arrested by her words. What do I want beyond vengeance? Beyond the driving force that has kept me alive through imprisonment and torture?

I consider how to answer her carefully, because the truth is that a future beyond ending the Authority isn’t something I’ve ever considered.

My assumption has always been that ensuring my people’s freedom would come at the cost of my own life.

The Veinwardens, the prophecy, the Authority—none of it ends with me walking away unscathed.

For twenty-seven years, survival was my only goal. Then escape. Then revenge. I’ve never allowed myself to look beyond those immediate necessities. Planning for a future I never expected to have seemed like a dangerous indulgence, a distraction from the focus needed to survive.

“Freedom,” I say in the end. Death will be freedom in its own way. “From the past. From what they did.”

“And what will you do with that freedom?”

I have no answer for that, not without admitting to her that I don’t expect to survive the war that’s coming.

“I don’t know.”

Surprise covers her face at my reply. “That might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Honesty has never typically served me well.” Truth is vulnerability. Vulnerability is weakness. Weakness is death. The equation is simple. Learned through bloodshed and betrayal. Yet with her, the math changes. With her, honesty offers something different than exposure.

“And now?” She steps closer.

“Now? Now I find myself considering possibilities I hadn’t planned for.”

Her eyes search mine. “Such as?”

“Such as what might happen after Blackstone Ridge … Such as what happens between us.”

A tremor runs through her at my words. “I keep thinking about River Crossing. When I thought you were gone. It was like something broke inside me. Something that can never be put back together in the same way.”

Her admission makes me pause. In that moment, watching as Sereven’s crystal tore apart my shadows, I focused on getting far enough away so I could send my familiar to find her. I hadn’t considered what that moment might have done to her.

“I’ve never felt rage like that before.” Her arms wrap around herself. “It was like the storm wasn’t only around me, but inside me … does that make sense? And then … when I found you in that cage …” Her voice breaks slightly. “When I saw what they’d done to you …”

She doesn’t complete that thought. She doesn’t need to. I understand what she’s telling me. Not just that she cares, but that caring has changed her as much as the torture I suffered changed me.

My hand lifts, fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. The touch sends a current through me, a sensation entirely different from Voidcraft or my shadows. She doesn’t pull away or flinch. Instead, she leans into my touch, tiny arcs of silver jumping between us like lightning seeking ground.

“I tried to reach you,” I confess quietly. “As the darkness took me. My last act was sending my familiar to find you. To bring you my ring.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t give up. I knew you’d continue in my place.” My hand slides from her jaw to the back of her head.