Page 69 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

“Sereven.” There’s a bite to Sacha’s tone. “The one in the center in the crimson robes.”

I focus on the approaching figures. Even at this distance, Sereven’s authority is evident in his bearing.

Tall, straight-backed, wearing the formal regalia that marks his rank within the Authority hierarchy.

Surrounding him are guards in military uniform, hands resting on the pommels of their swords.

“Are there more?”

“Yes. Hidden among the rocks.”

“Have they seen us?” My heart rate picks up speed.

“No. My shadows are ensuring we’re invisible to them.”

My attention returns to the hollow as Sereven approaches Lisandra. He stops when he’s approximately ten paces away from her. Close enough to speak without shouting, far enough to protect himself if she decides to attack.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?”

Sacha nods. “Sereven is demanding to know whether I survived or not. Lisandra is telling him that I made a complete recovery, and that I’m stronger than I was before.”

Something gleams in Sereven’s hand—not a weapon drawn in threat, but an object held casually at his side.

The crystal.

Even from this distance, something about it makes my skin crawl.

The power inside me responds, pulsing in warning.

This is what tore through Sacha’s shadows at the river, what nearly destroyed him completely.

It doesn’t just glow blue—it seems to pull at the light around it, creating a subtle distortion in the air that makes my eyes hurt when I try to focus on it directly.

Whatever that thing is, it’s not natural.

Sereven speaks again, waving his other hand. Lisandra responds by reaching into her tunic and drawing out something small. I can’t make out what it is from here, only the way it glints briefly as she hands it over.

“He knows I wouldn’t give that up lightly,” Sacha murmurs beside me. “Not after what it cost me.”

The way he says it, quiet and sharp, sends a chill up my spine.

“What is it?”

He doesn’t look at me. “Something that only he would understand.”

Before I can push for more, Sereven speaks again, louder this time. I can’t hear the words.

He studies whatever Lisandra gave him for a moment, turning it over. Then his head snaps up, gaze sweeping the surrounding ridges with sudden alertness.

“He’s looking for me now.” Sacha’s body grows unnaturally still, shadows drawing close to his skin until he all but vanishes against the rock. I focus on remaining as motionless as I can.

Below, the confrontation continues. Sereven’s voice is too low to carry, but the way he steps forward says enough—aggressive, demanding, meant to provoke. Lisandra responds by spreading her hands apart.

“She’s telling him I’m nearby. That I wanted to watch and see his reaction before showing him what I’ve become.”

Before I can ask what that means, movement below recaptures my attention.

Sereven has raised the crystal, its blue-white surface catching sunlight.

The light bends around it, subtle at first. Just enough to make the edges of the world feel off.

He turns in a slow circle, the crystal lifted in front of him. When he faces our direction, he pauses.

“He’s trying to find us,” Sacha murmurs.

Below, Sereven says something which makes Lisandra stiffen, her head shaking once. Whatever he’s asking, she’s refusing. Guards close in on her. One of them grabs her arm. Another steps in behind, seizing her other wrist. She doesn’t fight, but her mouth moves as she speaks.

Then Sereven draws a blade.

The light catches on it for a second, and my breath snags in my throat. The edge gleams like it’s been honed for this single purpose.

He presses it to her throat.

“What is he doing?” Horror fills my voice.

“Making sure he has leverage.”

A thin line of blood blooms beneath the blade. Lisandra holds herself still, head angled in our direction, and then she calls out.

“Don’t! It’s a trap. He wants?—”

One of the guards slams a hand over her mouth, yanking her backward.

Too late. The words are out, and they’ve landed exactly where she aimed them.

Sereven’s head snaps toward the ridge line, expression turning dark with fury.

Then he presses the blade harder against her throat.

Blood breaks in a second line, trailing down Lisandra’s neck as she’s held still, mouth pinned shut.

Beside me, Sacha doesn’t say a word … but his shadows move.

They pour from him, a silent flood of darkness spilling over the rocks, moving fast and low, branching into the cracks and folds of the ravine. The air shifts as he extends his reach, not just a surge of power, but deeper and colder.

Sereven sees them coming. The crystal in his hand flares brighter, a sharp spike of light that warps the air around it. He raises it, scanning the rocks, trying to pinpoint where the strike will come from.

“Back!” he shouts, dragging Lisandra in front of him like a shield. “Call them off or she dies.”

Sacha doesn’t move. Shadows curl thick around his feet, more spilling down the rocks toward the clearing.

“Release her, Sereven.” His voice carries across the hollow, too clear to be natural.

“Sacha. You came after all.”

“Let her go. Your fight is with me.” He steps forward before I can stop him, revealing himself to the man standing below.

Sereven’s eyes lock on him, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak. Then he smiles.

“My fight is with anyone who defies the Authority’s will.” He twists the crystal in his hand, and its light intensifies. No longer just glowing but projecting outward in a focused beam that strikes the ground near our position. Where it touches, shadows wither and dissolve.

Sacha steps sideways, moving away from me, but carefully staying beyond the crystal’s reach. The shadows swirl around him, gathering density.

"You survived our last encounter," Sereven acknowledges. "Impressive, if inconvenient." The way he says it carries an undercurrent that makes me wonder. There’s no surprise in his tone. It sounds more like frustrated expectation.

“More than survived.” Sacha’s voice is low. “I evolved.”

The shadows expand, forming into weapons. Impossible shapes with serrated edges. One of the guards shifts back a step. Another tightens his grip on his sword.

Sereven doesn’t move. He watches the display with clinical detachment. “Interesting. Let’s see if these ones last longer than the others.”

He raises the crystal again.

Sacha’s shadows shift. This time, he doesn’t try to overpower the light. He outmaneuvers it.

The shadows split.

Twist.

Circle.

And then they strike.

Guards cry out as shadow-forms strike them. Vicious, lethal attacks that sever throats and pierce hearts. They fall where they stand, those surviving scrambling backward in terror at the merciless assault. The precision with which Sacha’s shadows kill is terrifying to witness.

Sereven holds his ground. The blade stays at Lisandra’s throat. But his head twists from side to side, between her and the dark shapes tearing through his men.

“Now.” Varam snaps from behind me. “We move now.”

The fighters around us break from cover. Bows are raised, and arrows fly. Each one finds its mark. One drops a guard mid-turn, another hits a soldier through the eye before he can even react. This isn’t a warning volley. These are executions.

“Move!” Varam is already on his feet. “We need to get out of here before Sacha completes his move.”

“This was his plan?” I demand. “He always meant to face Sereven here?”

“ Move , Ellie!” Varam catches my arm, and drags me along the path. I stumble along, but my attention doesn’t leave the scene going on below.

Sacha is closing in on Sereven at an alarming speed.

There are only a few guards left between them, and they don’t last long. His shadows move, cutting down the last of them. No hesitation. No mercy.

Sereven shoves Lisandra to one side, and lifts the crystal again. The glow surges, building … then it erupts.

The beam strikes Sacha directly in the chest. But he doesn’t stop. It doesn’t even slow his advance. Whatever pain he’s experiencing, he pushes through it with singular focus.

When he reaches Sereven, Sacha’s hand closes around his wrist, forcing the crystal away from his body. Instead of fighting for control of the weapon, his shadows explode outward in a coordinated strike.

Sereven barely manages to twist away from the first attack. The crystal’s light flares wildly as he stumbles backward, but Sacha doesn’t give him space to recover. Shadows fly around them both, cutting off escape routes, herding Sereven into an ever-tightening circle.

The crystal’s light lashes out again. Sacha’s shadows flow around it like water, reforming on the other side. Where the blue light tears through one shadow, two more take its place.

A blade of darkness takes shape in Sacha’s grip.

Sereven raises the crystal as the newly formed shadowblade slices through the air, opening a shallow cut across his forearm.

Another strike follows it, this time across his shoulder, shredding the crimson fabric of his robes.

Then another along his ribs. None of them are killing blows, they’re aimed to cause pain, not death.

Sereven stumbles, crystal light flickering as his concentration wavers. His remaining guards try to close in, but shadow-forms intercept them, cutting them down. In seconds, the High Commander stands unprotected, bleeding and alone.

Sacha steps forward, the blade leveled at Sereven’s throat.

And then movement comes from the side.

Lisandra .

“No!” I cry out, but it’s too late.

Sacha twists at the sound of my voice just as Lisandra’s dagger punches through his back.

He staggers, shadows fracturing around him. He spins to face her, fury twisting his features.

Her lips move. I’m too far away to hear what she says, but her hand is steady on the hilt as she pulls the knife free.

The shadowblade dissolves. The crystal’s light surges back to full intensity.