Page 66 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

“Why are you shutting me out?” A hint of frustration enters her voice, but there’s hurt there too, and she isn’t bothering to hide it.

“After everything we’ve been through … the dream you had …

” Her fingers curl at her sides, tiny silver sparks dancing between her fingers.

“I thought we were past this. Past you deciding what I can and can’t handle. ”

“Some knowledge creates unnecessary risk.”

“For who? Me or you?” Those silver-flecked eyes search mine. “Are you afraid of what happens when you’re not the only one with all the pieces?”

“Both.” The word costs more than she will ever know.

Her ability to see more than I want to reveal should bother me. It should trigger every instinct for self-preservation that kept me alive. Yet what I feel instead is relief. Relief that she knows who I am, and still stays.

“I can handle risk.” Her voice softens, and she reaches out to touch my arm. “What I can’t handle is being kept in the dark while you face whatever is waiting at Blackstone Ridge. What I can’t handle is the thought of losing you because I wasn’t prepared for what you’re really planning.”

“My focus needs to remain absolute tomorrow. Concerns about your safety would compromise that focus.”

“So your solution is to tell me nothing ?” She shakes her head. “That’s not protection, Sacha. That’s control.”

Her words strike closer to the truth than I care to acknowledge. Control has always been integral to my survival. Control of information, of strategy, of emotion. But she’s asking me to surrender control to her, to trust her.

“Tomorrow is going to be dangerous. Sereven is not a fool. He’ll be prepared for treachery. He will have forces positioned all around.”

“And?”

I sigh. “And your safety is not negotiable.”

Her eyes narrow. “Neither is yours.”

“My safety isn’t important.”

“It is to me !” The passion in her voice can’t be ignored. “Don’t you understand that? I didn’t watch you die by inches after Glassfall Gap just to let you sacrifice yourself at Blackstone Ridge.”

The reference to those days—to how close I came to not returning from my injuries, to how her presence anchored me when I might have simply let go—hits harder than I expect.

“This isn’t about sacrifice, Ellie.”

“Then tell me what it is about. Why the secrecy?” Her voice drops, becoming almost pleading. “Tell me why you look at me like you’re memorizing my face in case the world ends tomorrow.”

Because it might. Because tomorrow has the potential to change everything. Because the woman from my dream spoke of truths that I can no longer leave buried, and I know with a bone-deep certainty that whatever happens at Blackstone Ridge might reshape everything we think we understand.

“Not secrecy, just that we must remain flexible. We need to adapt to circumstances as they develop.”

It’s not a lie, merely a selective truth. Enough information to satisfy immediate concerns without revealing anything that would only increase her determination to intervene.

She stares at me, and I can almost hear her thought process as she debates whether I’m telling her the truth or not. “I’m going with you tomorrow.”

“Ellie—”

“Not with Lisandra. With you . Wherever you position yourself to watch.” Her voice carries a finality that tells me arguing will be useless. “If something is going to happen, if you’re walking into something dangerous, then I’m walking into it with you.”

This concession costs me less than she knows. Having her where I can see her, where I can ensure her safety, serves my purpose better than leaving her with the others.

“You will stay within sight at all times. If I tell you to withdraw, you leave immediately. Without question.”

“As long as you’re withdrawing too.”

“Ellie—”

“That’s my condition.” Her chin lifts, and in the moonlight, I can see the silver flecks in her eyes gleaming with determination. “I’m not watching you die again.”

I’m learning fast when arguing with her won’t get me anywhere. This is one of those times. She’s made up her mind, and nothing I say will change it. Ordering her to stay behind will only ensure she follows on her own terms.

“You follow my lead.”

Relief mixes with the determination on her face. “Agreed.”

Her hand finds mine in the darkness, and that spark ignites between us immediately. Yet it’s different from the previous times we’ve been together. More urgent. More desperate. Tomorrow looms with all its danger and uncertainty, making tonight feel like a moment stolen in time.

She leans closer, her breath warm against my cheek, and unable to resist, I turn my head and lift my hand to slide it behind her neck and draw her face toward mine.

Our mouths meet with barely restrained hunger, teeth grazing lips, tongues seeking each other.

Her body presses against mine, and the warmth of her makes mine heat up.

My shadows respond to my silent command, spiraling outward from my skin in tendrils of darkness that wrap around us both, forming a barrier between us and the sleeping camp.

She pulls her mouth from mine, eyes catching the faint light of the moon as she glances at the darkness enveloping us.

“What’s this?”

“Privacy.” My mouth moves to her throat. “We can’t have the entire camp seeing what I’m about to do to you.”

She laughs softly, and pushes me backward, surprising me with her boldness. Her mouth finds mine again, tongue licking over my lower lip, before kissing her way to my neck, and down to suck against the pulse beating at the base of my throat. A low groan escapes me.

“Someone might hear us,” she whispers.

“Best be quiet then.” I roll her beneath me, capturing her mouth with mine, and letting shadows flow below us to cushion her body above the cold ground.

Pinning her wrists above her head, I let my weight settle against her. Her body arches up into mine, and I lower my mouth to the curve of her throat, sucking at her soft skin before biting down hard enough to make her squirm.

Her tunic is in my way, and I have to release her wrists to pull at the fabric, dragging it upward to expose the skin hidden beneath.

She helps, lifting her arms so I can pull it over her head.

In the darkness of our shadow cocoon, her skin glows with inner light, silver patterns flowing beneath the surface like liquid metal.

I take my time exploring newly exposed skin, mapping each curve, each hollow with hands and mouth. When my tongue traces the underswell of her breast, her back arches off the shadow bed. When I take a nipple between my teeth, the sound she makes breaks the silence.

I glance up to find her watching me, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“ Nevaram ishar, ” I whisper. Hold the silence .

“What does that mean?” Her back arches when my lips return to her breast.

“It means you can make as much noise as you want now, and no one will hear.”

My hands slide down her stomach, finding the lace of her pants.

She lifts her hips, helping me drag the fabric down her legs.

I follow its path with my mouth, pressing kisses to her skin.

The curve of her hip, the soft inside of her thigh, a spot behind her knee that makes her squirm.

By the time I’ve removed them entirely, she’s shivering beneath me, and not from the cold.

My own clothes feel constricting, too hot against skin that burns for her touch.

She seems to sense it, her hands reaching for me, pulling me back up to claim my mouth again.

Her fingers work at the fastenings of my shirt, then my breeches, her movements growing more urgent with each passing second.

When I’m finally as naked as she is, our skin meets with electric intensity.

Her silver light flares brighter, reaching for my shadows with an urgency that mirrors our bodies.

Everywhere we touch, our powers mingle. Darkness and light, shadow and silver, twining together.

The air around us grows thick with power, heady with desire.

Her legs part for me, an invitation I have no intention of refusing. But not yet. Not when there’s so much more to explore, to taste, to experience.

I move down her body again, hands spreading her thighs wider. She realizes my intent a second before my mouth finds her center, her entire body tensing in anticipation. The first stroke of my tongue draws a sound from her throat, quickly smothered by her palm. I laugh softly against her skin.

“Are you sure no one can hear?” Her hips rise up to meet my mouth.

I lift my head just enough to respond. “You’ll have to trust my word.”

I return to my task with absolute focus, learning what makes her fingers dig into my shoulders, what makes her thighs tremble around my head, what makes silver light pulse beneath her skin in waves that match her pleasure.

I don’t relent when her breathing grows ragged, when her body begins to tense toward release.

I increase my efforts, determined to break her control completely.

When she comes, the cry that rises in her throat is muffled by her hand, her body arching with such force it nearly dislodges me.

Silver blazes across her skin, so bright it threatens to pierce through my shadows.

I don’t stop until the last tremor passes through her, until she’s limp and breathless beneath me.

Only then do I crawl up her body, claiming her mouth again, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Her hand slips between us, finding me hard and ready. Her fingers wrap around me, stroking with enough pressure to make my breath catch.

“My turn,” she whispers against my mouth.

I catch her wrist and gently draw it away. “Next time.”

Before she can protest, I settle between her thighs, positioning myself. Our eyes lock in the silver-lit darkness, a moment of perfect understanding passing between us. Then I push forward, entering her in one slow thrust that makes us both gasp.