Page 79 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)
“And yet I don’t feel angry. I feel ... purpose.” I look down at my hands, at our linked fingers, at the power flowing visibly beneath my skin. “Like all those years of feeling out of place were preparing me for this moment. For coming back.”
“For facing Sereven.”
“He recognized me. He feared me. Not only for who I was then, but for who I am now.” I flex my fingers, watching the light respond. “For what we discovered we can do together at Blackstone Ridge.”
“Our combined power affected his crystal in ways he clearly didn’t anticipate.”
“That’s the key, isn’t it?” The realization turns uncertainty into excitement. “It’s not what my power can do alone, it’s what happens when it merges with yours. That’s what terrified him.”
Sacha’s expression grows more focused. “The crystal separated what was joined, and joined what was separate.” That’s what Telren found in the archives.”
“And when our powers combined—” My heart beats faster as the connections form.
“We defied that separation,” he finishes.
I can almost feel the puzzle pieces sliding together, forming a clearer picture. “That’s why he called me Elowen with such fear. He recognized me, yes, but more importantly, he recognized what was happening between our powers.”
“‘Two forces never meant to meet shall intertwine,’" Sacha quotes from the prophecy. “‘Their union defies the patterns of ages past.’”
The words send a shiver down my spine.
“Maybe it’s not about who I am,” I say, my thoughts racing ahead. “Maybe it’s about who we are together.” I pull my hand free from beneath his and hold it palm out.
Without hesitation, Sacha raises his hand to mirror mine, shadows flowing between his fingers. He doesn’t touch me, but holds his hand near mine. His power reaches toward me, creating swirling patterns in the narrow space between our palms.
“If that’s true, then Sereven’s fear makes even more sense. Not just of you returning, but of you returning and finding me.”
“You really believe we can bring down the Authority, don’t you?”
“Yes.” The certainty in that single word is absolute. “More now than ever.”
I look at him, really look at him. The determination in his eyes, the set of his jaw. This is a man who survived twenty-seven years in a tower without breaking. Who endured torture that should have killed him, and emerged stronger.
My body releases some of the tension it’s been holding, shoulders dropping and my breath coming easier. The storm inside me doesn’t disappear, but it calms, finding focus instead of chaos.
“I need to know who I am. Where I came from. What happened to my parents.”
“I know.” His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining. The contact sends a surge of warmth through me, and with it, a rush of energy. His shadows curl around our joined hands, my light pulses between our fingers.
“We’ll learn more tomorrow with Lisandra.” Sacha pushes to his feet, the movement fluid, and turns to tug me up alongside him. Our hands remain connected. “She may have insights others lack.”
I rise, standing close enough to feel the warmth of his body.
“Do you think she’ll tell us the truth? She’s been lying about where her loyalties lie for years.”
His mouth curves into a grim smile. “She has little reason to lie at this point. Her betrayal is discovered, her position lost. Information is her only remaining currency.” His thumb traces small circles over my wrist. “And she knows what I’m capable of if I discover more deception.
There are far more worse things than death. ”
“Thank you. For all of this. For helping me search, for not telling me to focus on defeating Sereven and ignore the questions.”
“Your identity matters, Ellie. It has nothing to do with what it might mean for our fight, but because you deserve to know. Everyone deserves to know where they came from.”
I study his face in the dim light, the sharp planes and angles that I once thought were too severe to be handsome.
“You’re not the man I met in that tower.” The observation slips out before I can stop it.
“No, I’m not. That man was shaped by isolation. By rage and helplessness, and the slow erosion of hope.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m shaped by different experiences.” His eyes hold mine. “By your unexpected arrival. By capture and torture at Sereven’s hands. By healing that should have been impossible.” His lips curve into a half-smile. “By having something to fight for beyond revenge.”
I think about our journey together. The tower, traveling across the Sunfire Dunes, the tension-filled days in Ravencross.
Stonehaven, the disastrous mission to Ashenvale, and River Crossing where I thought I’d lost him for good.
His near-death after Glassfall Gap, and his transformation afterward.
We’ve both changed so profoundly since our first meeting, forced to evolve by circumstances and by each other.
“Do you regret it?” I ask. “Casting that spell that brought me here?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, his expression thoughtful.
“No,” he says finally. “Though I regret not telling you sooner that I was responsible for your arrival.”
“I understand why you didn’t.” And I do, which surprises me. “At first, you needed my help to escape. Then we were focused on survival.”
“Still, you deserved to know from the beginning." His thumb traces small circles on the back of my hand. “It’s late, we should sleep while we can.” While he talks, he draws me across the chamber to the bed.
I don’t argue, climbing onto it and stretching out on top of the cool sheets. I should strip out of my clothes, but I haven’t got the energy. Sacha must feel the same way as he rounds the bed and settles beside me, still fully clothed, only pausing to remove his boots.
I find myself curling against him, my head finding its place on his chest where I can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand traces slowly along my spine, and the soothing touch sends me to sleep before I can say anything more.
A sharp knock shatters the quiet, snapping my eyes open. Before I can even register what the sound was, Sacha is already rising.
"Enter," he calls.
The door to the outer chamber opens, and Varam’s voice carries through. "Scouts have just returned from their dawn patrol. They brought reports sent via birds from posts further out in the mountains. Authority patrols are gathering. Sereven is mobilizing."
Sleep vanishes completely, and I scramble off the bed so I can follow Sacha into the other room.
“Where? How many?”
“Multiple columns, converging from different directions.” Varam hands him a small map with positions marked in red ink. “At least three hundred soldiers in each column from what the scouts could see.”
“They’re coming for Stonehaven. Now that Lisandra has nothing of worth, he has no reason to hold back.”
“Most likely. Their movements suggest they’ll be in position to attack within three days.”
“They’re coming because of what happened at Blackstone Ridge, aren’t they?” I turn to Sacha. “Because of what we did.”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his voice. “After seeing us together, and how our power affected his crystal, he can’t afford to wait. The prophecy is unfolding before his eyes. He’ll throw everything he has at stopping us now.”
My heart races as I process the implications, fear and determination warring within me. Three days. Three days until Sereven arrives with an army to destroy not just Sacha and me, but everyone in Stonehaven.
"We need to prepare the stronghold," Sacha says. He issues instructions—reinforced lookouts, defensive preparations, and evacuation plans for the non-combatants.
Varam nods, committing each one to memory.
“Move families first. Get them to sanctuary. Speak to the Veinwarden leaders and find out where the safest place to take them is.”
When Varam leaves to implement these orders, he turns to me. “We need to speak to Lisandra now, not wait until later. This attack changes everything.”
As he moves toward the hidden door, I look once more at my reflection.
I may not know exactly who I am yet, but I know what I am. I’m someone who won’t let these people who’ve taken me in, who have protected me, fall to the Authority without using every advantage at my disposal.
Even if that advantage is the very thing that’s throwing my entire identity into question.