Page 65 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

SACHA

One does not hold prophecy. One survives it.

The Nature of Veinblood Rebirth

We make camp in a grove just beyond the tree line.

It’s dense enough to shield movement, open enough to monitor from every angle.

Everyone spreads out across the clearing, taking up positions without the need for discussions.

Bedrolls are laid out, and a small fire is prepared so everyone can have a hot meal before the confrontation tomorrow.

I conceal the visibility of the flames with shadows.

Lisandra is secured to a tree near the outer edge, wrists bound in front of her so she can’t repeat her escape by using the trunk to cut through her bindings, and gagged to keep her silent.

Her eyes follow me, filled with something close to hatred. Guards position themselves on either side of her, hands resting on their weapons, a clear message that mercy has its limits.

I turn my attention to Ellie, who is sitting on a fallen log, fingers tentatively touching the thin cut on her neck.

The wound is shallow, but the sight of blood, still visible despite her attempts to wipe it away, keeps drawing my attention.

It stokes an unfamiliar heat through my veins, and makes my shadows curl restlessly close to my skin.

This reaction is … unsettling. The intensity of it is unusual.

“Let me see that.” I drop to one knee before her, my voice rougher than I mean it to be.

A ripple of shock passes through the nearby fighters, subtle but unmistakable. One of them stops in the middle of laying out his bedroll, eyes widening before looking away. Others exchange glances. I catch Varam’s raised eyebrow from across the clearing.

Ellie frowns, looking around before turning back to me. “What’s wrong with them?”

I dismiss their behavior with a shake of my head. I know exactly what caused their reaction. The Vareth’el kneeling before someone of lower rank. A position I haven’t assumed since before my father’s execution.

My focus remains on the thin line of red against her skin, unwilling to acknowledge what my action may have revealed to everyone watching. “Lift your head.”

She tilts her head, exposing the cut where Lisandra’s blade broke through. “It’s nothing.”

“It could have been everything.” The words escape before I can stop them.

She goes very still at my tone. “Sacha?—”

“Don’t.” I tear a strip of cloth from the bottom of my tunic and dampen it with water from my waterskin. My hands are steadier than they have any right to be. “Just … let me.”

With careful movements, I clean the dried blood away. The cut is shallow, not dangerous, but it’s a stark reminder of how close Lisandra came to ending her life. How close I came to losing something I’m only now beginning to understand the value of.

“I should have killed her.”

“For this?” She attempts a smile. “I’ve had worse paper-cuts.”

“For putting a blade to your throat. For betraying us all.” I clench my jaw, sucking in a breath through my nose, and force myself to silence.

The moment replays in my mind. Lisandra’s knife at her throat.

The fear that almost froze my blood. Not for the mission or how it would affect the plan, but for her.

The rage so pure, I was a whisper away from destroying Lisandra where she stood, consequences be damned.

Years of control, nearly undone in a single heartbeat. For her.

I finish cleaning the wound, my touch gentler than my thoughts. “There. It won’t scar.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze shifts to Lisandra, and stays there. “You wanted to kill her.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You asked me not to.”

She looks back at me. “And that was enough? Just me asking?”

“Yes. It was enough.” I meet her eyes, and let her see the truth in them. “But in return, I want your promise that you won’t try to talk to her tonight. Stay on this side of the camp.”

“Sacha—”

“Your promise, Ellie. Stay away from her tonight.”

Her gaze returns to the ex-leader of Stonehaven. “Do you think she’ll try to escape again?”

“No. She’s not that foolish. But she’s marked you once.” My fingers brush against the delicate skin of her neck. “I have no wish to be in that position a second time.”

“What position?”

“Helpless.” The admission tastes harsh on my tongue. “I have no desire to be helpless to protect you again.”

Her hand covers mine where it rests against her throat. “You’re still here. I’m still here. And tomorrow we face whatever comes next together.” Her lips quirk up into a small smile. One that fades as footsteps come closer from behind me.

“Everywhere is quiet,” Varam says.

I let my hand drop, and rise to my feet so I can turn to face him.

“No sign of Authority movement along the eastern trails,” he continues.

“And the western paths?” We move away toward the edge of the clearing, far enough to hold a conversation without being overheard.

“Jaret saw nothing. If the Authority had scouts nearby, they’ve moved on.”

I nod. “We’ll keep guards posted overnight, all the same.”

His gaze shifts to Ellie, then Lisandra. “You should have killed her.”

“I know.”

“She held a knife to Ellie’s throat. We both know Lisandra would have cut her down if you’d made a single move toward her. There was a time you wouldn’t have hesitated.”

“I’m aware.” I know what he’s saying. I’ve changed. The tower changed me. Ellie has changed me.

His nostrils flare, expression hardening. “After everything—Ashenvale, your capture, what they did to you because of the information she gave them—you’re still giving her mercy. Why?”

“Until she serves her purpose.”

“Purpose. Is that what we’re calling it?”

I don’t answer, but he’s not finished.

“She was my friend , Sacha. Before she sold us all for whatever Sereven promised her.” His fingers curl into fists.

“I trusted her with my life … more than once. We all did. And now you’re showing her the same consideration you’d show to a guest, when she nearly cut Ellie down in front of you.

” His gaze moves to where Ellie sits. “Once you would have seen that as an unacceptable risk.”

“I had less patience back then.”

“After, then? When she’s served this purpose of yours?” The question holds more than just tactical inquiry.

“Her fate will be decided tomorrow.”

“By you? Or by Sereven?” He studies my face. “Because if you’re planning what I think you’re planning?—”

“It doesn’t matter. What needs to be done is the only focus.”

He stares at me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Everyone has been informed of their positions for Blackstone Ridge. Six will watch from the high stones with a clear view of the meeting place. The rest will be ready to retrieve Lisandra once she delivers your message.”

“And if they’re expecting us?”

“We have three paths marked through the mountains. If trouble does happen to find us, we won’t be trapped.” He pauses. “But you already know all this. That’s not what you want to know.”

He’s right. “What do I want to know?”

“Whether you can trust us to bring her home alive.” He’s not talking about Lisandra anymore. “Whether you can trust any of us to have your back tomorrow, or if you will have to face him alone.”

“I know I can trust you, Nul’shar.” My voice is quiet. “I have never doubted that.”

He sighs. “I’ve put guards on a three-hour rotation for the night. I’ll take the final watch. You should get some rest before tomorrow.” He walks away before I can argue.

Blackstone Ridge holds dangers in its very shape.

A natural hollow between stone walls, partially hidden by rock formations but visible from higher ground.

Sereven will place his men carefully. The same way I would.

Archers among the high stones where they can see everything, guards at a distance from where Lisandra will meet him, and more soldiers hidden among the rocks.

Every advantage will be his. Except one.

He doesn’t know I’m coming.

The night settles around us, quiet except for the occasional rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

I move away from our camp, and find a small outcropping of rock that provides both cover and vantage point.

From here, I can survey the surrounding land while remaining hidden from casual observers.

My thoughts turn to tomorrow’s confrontation, to what might await us at Blackstone Ridge. Sereven will be there, expecting Lisandra to arrive with my head. I have no doubt he’ll have the crystal with him.

The words the woman from my dream spoke fill my head, clear as if she stands beside me now.

Blackstone Ridge. Where paths converge. Where truth can no longer be buried.

What does it mean? What paths converge beyond the obvious—Lisandra carrying my message, Sereven awaiting with whatever forces he’s assembled? What truth has been buried that demands this specific place, this specific moment?

“You’re not sleeping.”

Ellie’s voice breaks through my thoughts. I turn to find her standing a few feet away, blanket wrapped around her shoulders against the night’s chill.

“Neither are you, apparently.”

“I woke up.” She moves closer. “What are you thinking about?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her gaze searches mine. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“The plan is simple. Lisandra takes my message to Sereven. We watch, and then get her out of there before he kills her.”

“That’s all?” Skepticism colors her tone. “You’ve come all this way just to watch her tell him you’re not dead?”

“That’s all that matters for now.”

“I don’t believe you. You get this look when you’re holding something back.” She waves a hand toward my face. “You won’t meet my eyes.”

When did she learn to read me so well?

“It doesn’t matter if you do or not. The plan doesn’t change.”