Page 64 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

Lisandra moves with stunning speed, twisting in his grip with a technique designed to break holds. Her hand comes up, the gleam of metal flashing in the dying light.

Sacha reacts, shadows surging to deflect the strike, but Lisandra isn’t aiming for him. She pivots, changing direction mid-motion, and lunges toward me.

Before I can move, her arm locks around my throat, blade pressed against my skin.

“Call back your shadows,” she demands. “Or I’ll open her throat.”

Power surges through me in response to the immediate danger, illuminating the ravine walls with unnatural light.

Sacha freezes, shadows hovering around him like agitated smoke. His expression remains calm, but I can see the calculation in his eyes as he weighs options, plans moves. I wonder if he’s measuring my life against everything else at stake.

“You won’t kill her,” he says finally. “She’s the only leverage you have.”

“I don’t need to kill her. I just have to hurt her enough to slow you down.”

The blade presses harder against my skin, not breaking it yet, but the threat is clear. My breath comes in shallow gasps.

“What do you want?” Sacha’s voice gives no hint at all to what he might be thinking.

“Safe passage away from here. Away from Sereven. Away from you. Away from this entire cursed war.” Her arm tightens around my throat, cutting off my airflow. “I’m done being everyone’s sacrificial piece.”

Sacha’s eyes meet mine, and for a second there’s something there that I never expected to see—genuine concern. Not for himself, but for me. Real fear for my safety. Uncertainty instead of his usual confidence.

For a man who has spent decades confined to a tower, who has faced torture without breaking, this moment of fear, for me, sends a strange warmth through me, even with a blade at my throat.

“Let her go, and you have my word that you can walk away.”

Lisandra laughs, the sound bitter. “Your word ? The word of the man who planned to use me as bait for Sereven? Who knows exactly what fate awaits me there?”

“You knew what he would do to me, Lisandra.” His voice turns dangerously soft, shadows condensing into darker forms around him. “And you still handed me to him. But even after that, I never intended for you to die at Blackstone Ridge.”

“No, just afterward. When I’ve served my purpose.

” The blade presses harder, and I feel a warm trickle of blood as it breaks skin.

“I’ve served the Veinbloods from the start of the war, when the Authority uprising began.

I’ve served you . I gave up everything for the Veinwardens.

Decades devoted to a cause that’s killed everyone I’ve ever loved.

And my reward? To be sacrificed for your feud with Sereven. ”

“Feud.” He spits the word out like poison. “Is that what you’re calling the utter annihilation of the Veinbloods?”

I stay still, focusing on my breathing, on the power fighting to break free. My familiar stirs inside my mind, responding to my danger. It wants to be released, but not yet. Timing is everything.

“It wouldn’t have happened if?—”

“Were you responsible for my initial imprisonment, Lisandra?”

“No! Of course not.”

“You’re lying. You betrayed us all. To the Authority, to Sereven.”

“To protect Stonehaven! A single life against hundreds. The same decision you’ve had to make countless times. The difference is I chose them over you .”

Sacha’s posture changes. It’s almost imperceptible, but I feel it like a physical shift in the air between us. His shadows draw closer to his body, become more concentrated, more lethal.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Back away. Tell the fighters to stay where they are. I’m taking her with me until I’m clear of this area.”

“And then?”

“Then I’ll release her. Somewhere you can find her after I’m gone.”

I don’t think Sacha believes her. I know I don’t. If Lisandra takes me, she’ll use me as a bargaining chip with Sereven. Proof of her continued value. I will be tortured for information about Sacha. A weapon to use against him.

Sacha takes a single step backward, shadows lashing out in agitated whips around him.

“You won’t survive this.” It’s not a threat.

“Maybe not. But neither will she if you make the wrong move.”

As they face off, the mist stalker presses against the boundaries of my control, eager to protect me.

Not yet. Wait for the right moment .

“Start walking.” Lisandra uses her grip on my throat to force me back toward the ravine’s exit. “Slowly.”

I comply, feeling the blade’s edge against my throat with each careful step. Sacha follows at a distance, his eyes never leaving mine. In them, I can see a promise.

I will not let you die.

We reach the exit, the space opening onto a broader expanse of rocky ground that slopes gently toward distant trees. It will give cover for Lisandra’s escape, if she makes it that far.

“That’s close enough,” she tells Sacha, looking around to check her surroundings. “Stay there while we leave.”

Now . This is my moment. While she’s distracted.

I release the mist stalker, not with the chaotic energy of previous attempts, but with complete control. My vision splits, showing myself through its eyes, where it forms directly behind Lisandra.

And then it strikes. Its form slams into her back, and the impact sends us both forward. Her grip on my throat loosens as she struggles to keep her balance.

The knife scores a line across my throat as we separate, a streak of fire against my skin. I don’t have time to check how deep it is before I throw my body to the side, tearing myself free from her hold.

Sacha moves instantly, shadows surging forward like living weapons. They wrap around Lisandra before she can recover, immobilizing her, constricting around her limbs … her throat.

“I told you, you wouldn’t survive this.” His voice drops to a deadly whisper as he stalks closer. The shadows tighten, and Lisandra gasps.

Blood trickles from the cut on my neck, but since I’m still breathing, I ignore it, focused on Lisandra and Sacha.

Her eyes are wide with fear. His are narrow with a cold fury I’ve never seen before.

She knows what’s coming. Has known since the moment we caught up with her.

The shadows begin to twist around her throat, cutting off her air.

“Wait.” I lunge between them, my hand grasping Sacha’s arm. “We still need her.”

His eyes meet mine, blazing with such intense rage that I almost step back. This isn’t the Sacha I’ve come to know. This is the Vareth’el. The Shadowvein Lord. This is someone about to dispense justice.

“She tried to kill you.” The words come out as a growl.

“She tried to escape.” I keep my grip on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. “If killing me was her intent, she could have done it at any time.”

“She’s proved she can’t be trusted. Twice now, she’s shown how dangerous she is to our safety.” The shadows tighten further around Lisandra, whose face turns purple with her struggle to breathe.

“But we need her at Blackstone Ridge.” I step closer to him, ignoring the throbbing pain in my neck. “That was the plan. For Lisandra to face Sereven.”

“Plans need to change when circumstances demand it.” His voice is ice.

I move directly into his line of sight, blocking his view of Lisandra. “But this plan is good. It could still work.” I lower my voice, making the words just for him. “She’s the only reason Sereven is coming here. If she doesn’t arrive, what will he do?”

Sacha stares at me. I can see the conflict in his eyes—the desire to punish Lisandra for what she’s done battling with his need to consider what I’m saying.

I reach up, placing my palm against his cheek, forcing him to look at me rather than Lisandra. There’s a collective gasp from everyone watching. It’s the boldest I’ve ever been with him when people are looking, but I need to break through.

“Sacha. Please. Look at me. Not at her.”

His eyes, the black bleeding into the whites, lock with mine, surprise replacing fury.

“You’ve taught me that survival means making hard choices.” My voice is steady despite the blood I can feel trickling down my neck. “This is one of those moments. We need her alive. For now.”

For one long breathless moment, no one moves. The shadows remain tight around Lisandra, who has gone still. The fighters watch from a distance, waiting for Sacha’s decision. I don’t drop my hand from his face, don’t break our gaze.

Then finally, he tilts his head in the slightest of nods.

The shadows loosen enough to allow Lisandra to gasp for air. Relief washes through me, mixed with the strange realization that I’ve just requested he show mercy to someone who held a knife to my throat.

But something in me refuses to accept the idea that she should be killed simply because she’s become inconvenient.

Maybe it’s my fading connection to the world I came from, where we at least pretend justice matters more than vengeance.

Or maybe it’s something deeper. A recognition that in a world where everyone makes brutal choices, mercy might be the rarest power of all.

I’m changing in this world, becoming something I never imagined, but some core of who I am, who I choose to remain, despite everything that’s happened, refuses to bend to its cruelty.

As the fighters secure Lisandra with multiple restraints and check her for hidden weapons, I walk over to where Sacha stands watching the process.

“Thank you.”

His gaze moves to me. “You risked yourself to subdue her rather than kill her. Why?”

“I’m not sure.” I touch the shallow cut on my neck. “Maybe because we’re more than the worst choices we make. Maybe because I’d like to believe that if I ever made a terrible mistake, someone would offer me the same chance.”

He studies me for a long, silent moment, then he sighs, a sound caught between frustration and reluctant admiration. “And this is why you continue to be a variable I cannot fully predict. Your compassion defies understanding.”

“Is that a compliment or a criticism?” I’m conscious of how close we’re standing, of the others watching from a distance.

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Perhaps it’s both.”