Page 116 of Stormvein
“I’ve put guards on either end of the passageway leading to your chambers, in case anyone tries to get more confirmation than we’re issuing. Only those already cleared can enter. You should sleep. We’ll leave at first light.”
Sacha nods, and Varam disappears without another word.
The silence that follows isn’t the same as before. It’s heavier now.
“Do you think she’ll actually go through with it?” I ask. “Knowing what might happen to her if Sereven suspects it’s a trap?”
“She won’t have a choice. I’ll be close enough to intervene if she attempts to betray us again.”
“And when he realizes you’re alive?”
His eyes meet mine. “That’s when the real battle will begin.”
I study his face, searching for some trace of the hatred I’d feel in his position. But there’s nothing. No rage, no thirst for vengeance. Just cold focus, that’s somehow more frightening. This isn’t about settling a score, or a personal vendetta. It’s about justice on a larger scale. About dismantling the system that threatens everyone under his protection.
Something about that makes my heart ache. Even his revenge isn’t personal. I wonder if anything in his life has ever been purely for himself.
He turns toward me, stepping close. His hand rises, thumb brushing lightly over my jaw, tracing the curve of my lower lip. It’s such a gentle contrast to everything we’ve discussed that it steals the breath from my lungs.
“I want your promise.” His voice is low, deep enough that I feel it more than hear it. “When we reach Blackstone Ridge, you’ll do what I say. No arguments. No improvisation.”
His thumb continues its path across my skin, but his eyes hold mine. The contradiction is dizzying. He’s touching me like a lover, and commanding me like a general.
“I’ll promise that, only if you promise not to do anything that might get you captured again.” My hand rises to grasp his wrist, holding his hand against my cheek. “I can’t—” My voice threatens to break, and I swallow, licking my lips. His eyes zero in on the movement. “Iwon’tstand by and watch him hurt you again. Not if I have the power to stop it.”
“Ellie—” My name is a soft exhalation.
“No.” I tighten my grip on his wrist, and light sparks between us. “This isn’t negotiable. Whatever we’ve become to each other, whatever this is between us, it means I get to make demands too. We protect each other, or not at all.”
Surprise flickers in his eyes, and then he nods. “Then you have my promise.”
The formality of his words, the way his palm cups my cheek … it makes me wonder if anyone has ever tried to protect him before, rather than the other way around. And it makes me even more determined to do just that if it’s necessary.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SACHA
They teach control as virtue, because fear cannot rule alone.
Authority Codes
Shadows embrace me,surround me, and guide me forward. I can sense a presence within them, something outside of my own being, and the darkness I’ve commanded since childhood responds instantly, threading through my thoughts with a steady, familiar pull.
It feels different now, since my rebirth at Ellie’s hands, more vibrant and alive, tinged with an energy I’ve never felt before. One that tastes of silver and storm.
They lead me deeper, into something that feels like a memory I never lived. A history written in my blood, but erased from my mind.
A tower rises ahead, but it’s not the one I remember. This one is older. Its foundations vanish into depths I can’t see. The walls aren’t as smooth as they were in my prison, but textured with countless symbols that crawl across the stone like living things. They pulse with a rhythm I’ve never seen before yet somehow understand.
Light and shadow dance along the walls, patterns forming and fading like truths half-remembered. The shadows respond to my presence, reaching toward me, while the light stretches alongside it, silver threads weaving through black.
And thensheappears without a sound.
The woman with silver-threaded hair, her face lined with wisdom, her eyes bright with purpose. She doesn’t move so much as shift between states of being, her form never fully fixed in any single moment. One second substantial enough to cast a shadow, the next translucent, as if reality hasn’t decided what she is yet. Or perhaps she exists beyond reality’s definitions.
I’ve seen her before. In other dreams where I hovered between life and death after Sereven’s torture. Before Ellie’s silver storm rebuilt my body. Always watching. Always waiting. Always knowing more than she reveals.
“The division was never meant to be permanent.” Her voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere. “What was separated seeks reunion. Blood calls to blood. Shadow yearns for storm. Power divided weakens. United, it transforms.”
