Page 9 of Stormvein (The Veinbound Trilogy #2)

But the image, those awful few seconds when darkness seemed to implode, are already playing out in my head, and the words are spilling from my lips before I can stop them.

“We were on a hill … above the clearing where the Authority soldiers ambushed him … them . Mira told us to stay down, otherwise we’d be seen.”

Telren nods.

“I watched them circle him and Varam. Sereven … the High Commander. He was there. He had this crystal.” My voice wavers, and I swallow. “When he used it on Sacha’s shadows …”

The tension builds fast. I flatten my hands to the floor, grounding myself in the coolness of the stone.

“He fought, kept them distracted so Varam could escape, but … but that crystal tore his shadows apart. They … unraveled.” I force myself to continue. “The raven, his familiar, it kept breaking apart.”

My chest constricts, making each breath harder to draw. “Then the darkness started … I don’t know … changing? Pulling inward toward him. And then it … collapsed. And he was gone.”

I’m breathing too fast. Like I’ve run too far.

“His raven flew toward me. It looked wrong. Flickering and then … and then …”

I can’t continue. The memory of that moment, of the familiar merging into me, sends the power spiraling out of control.

Power erupts from my skin in jagged lightning bolts. The shadows in the chamber jump and distort.

“The storm came from nowhere,” I manage between ragged breaths. “From inside me, maybe. It felt like everything broke open.”

I double over, gasping, as another wave hits, bright enough that it reflects off the walls.

“Ellie!” Telren’s voice cuts through my struggle. “ Breathe! ”

But I can’t. Telling him what happened has brought it all back. Every detail, every moment of helplessness as I watched Sacha disappear. The energy responds to my distress, feeding on my grief and rage until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

“I should have done something,” I gasp out. “Should have?—”

It breaks loose again, stronger this time. My skin feels like it’s splitting apart. Light bursts from my hands and arms, casting wild shadows that dance across the walls.

“Focus on your breathing,” Telren says firmly.

I try, but every inhale brings more memories, more images of that crystal tearing through Sacha’s power. The energy inside me becomes chaotic and painful .

“Just breathe, Ellie. Don’t try to stop it. Let it flow while you breathe.”

I force myself to inhale. Focus on counting breaths.

One … inhale.

Two … exhale.

Three … inhale.

Four … exhale.

“Good. That’s it. Keep going.”

Each breath comes easier than the last. The light still flickers along my veins, but it’s not exploding outward anymore. I’m shaking, soaked in sweat, but no longer on the verge of completely losing control.

“Now then,” he says once my breathing has steadied. “We’ll keep working through this. Every time the memory becomes too much, we’ll pause and let you find your center again.”

He has me repeat it—what happened, what I saw, what it did. Each cycle leaves me more drained, but also a little more capable of holding onto myself when the grief threatens to consume me.

By the time he says we’re done, I’m completely wrung out. My throat aches from talking, from breathing through the pain. Every part of me feels frayed, exposed.

“That’s enough for today. You’ve done well.” He smiles at my headshake. “It might not seem like it, but you’ve come a long way.” The smile fades. “I also understand why you believe Lord Torran may still be alive … and I believe you.”

The relief his words bring me is almost overwhelming.

“You have to tell Lisandra.”

He’s shaking his head before I’ve finished speaking.

“Ellie, even if you’re right, we don’t know if they have him or where. We have no idea where to look.”

My eyes burn, a lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak. I feel like I’ve been turned inside out, but he believes me. I close my eyes, listening as he stands and walks away, boots scuffing lightly against the stone.

Tomorrow, we’re going to do this again. But right now, I can barely think past the ache in every muscle, the burn in my chest, and the grief that feels even heavier after being forced to speak it aloud.

Eventually, I get to my feet and make my way back into the main passages of Stonehaven. My legs feel unsteady, and every breath is shaky. All I want to do is get back to Sacha’s chambers and hide from the world.

People step aside as I pass, some nodding respectfully, others watching with barely disguised curiosity. A few whisper among themselves, glances sliding toward me before darting away.

"Varel et’Arvath," someone murmurs as I pass, giving me a shallow bow.

The unfamiliar title sets my teeth on edge. I don’t know what it means, but the reverence in the speaker’s voice makes me recoil. I’m not their anything . I’m just Ellie Bennet, trying to make it through one moment at a time.

Turning a corner, I almost collide with Varam. His hand shoots out to steady me. Once he’s certain I’m not going to topple over, he steps back.

"Ellie. How did your training go?" He sounds tired, and I look at him properly for the first time since we returned from River Crossing. His eyes are shadowed, and grief has marked new lines around his mouth. He’s aged years in the space of a few days.

“It was hard.” Such a simple word for what Telren put me through, but I don’t have the energy for more explanation.

“Training always is when you first start. It works muscles you aren’t accustomed to using.”

We stand in awkward silence for a moment.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to Sach—my quarters.”

Something shifts across his face when I catch myself. He knows where I’m sleeping. Knows I can’t bear to leave the space that still holds traces of him.

“Would you mind if I walked with you?”

I shake my head, and we begin walking along the passageway. Our footsteps echo off the walls. After a few minutes, I glance at him.

“I keep expecting to see him,” I admit quietly, the words slipping out before I can stop them. “Around every corner. In his quarters. Like if I look for long enough, he’ll be there.”

Varam’s steps slow slightly. “I know that feeling. It will fade with time.”

“I don’t want it to fade. He will come back.”

Varam doesn’t reply, but I can feel the pity in his gaze. The certainty that I’m clinging to false hope.

“You knew him before. What was he like then?”

He doesn’t reply for a second or two, then draws in a deep breath. “Different. So different you wouldn’t recognize him.”

“How?”

“He couldn’t sit still through a planning session to save his life.” A shadow of a smile crosses his face. “The rest of us would be mapping routes, discussing strategies, and Sacha would last maybe ten minutes before finding some excuse to disappear.”

“That sounds frustrating.” And not at all like the man I know.

“Maddening. But then he’d come back with information none of us had considered, or a wild plan of his own because he’d gone and scouted the territory himself, or talked to contacts we didn’t even know he had.

” He gives a gruff laugh. “I remember one time. We were planning a coordinated strike against an Authority outpost. Spent days working out the approach, timing everything perfectly.” His voice takes on a different quality, like he’s seeing it happen again.

“Sacha sat through the whole meeting, nodding along. The next morning, we woke to find the outpost already burning. He’d gone alone during the night. ”

“Were you angry?”

“Furious.” A genuine smile ghosts across his lips now. “Until he explained how he’d noticed a shift change we missed, and found a vulnerability in their defenses that would only last until dawn. His recklessness always had its own ruthless logic.”

I can almost see it. This younger, more impulsive version of Sacha, driven by something other than calculation.

“He wasn’t always the quiet strategist you met. Before the tower, strategy bored him. He led from the front, always. Thought if he struck fast enough, no one else would need to bleed.”

The words echo what Mira told me, another piece of the man I never truly knew. “The tower changed him a lot, didn’t it?”

“Twenty-seven years of isolation would change anyone. If I’d known he was there, that he wasn’t dead, I would never have left him trapped.” Anger flashes in his eyes. “I’d have found a way to free him.”

He studies me for a moment. “Lisandra has called another meeting. That’s where I’m going now. You should attend.”

This surprises me. “Why? She made it clear yesterday that my opinion wasn’t welcome.”

“Because like it or not, you’re part of this now. And Sacha would not have wished for you to be alienated and not heard.” His voice carries a quiet authority. “He would want you there.”