Page 135 of Stormvein
“If that’s what you need to believe.” I brush her hair away from her face, allowing myself this moment.
Her hand moves to my face, fingertips tracing the line of my cheekbone with a tenderness that aches more than any torture I’ve suffered.
“Promise me you’re not planning something foolish.” The lightness of her voice fails to mask the fear behind her words.
I turn my head to kiss her palm, breathing in her scent.Memorizingit. “I promise my intention is to survive.”
She bites her lip, studying me. “That’s not the same as promising not to take unnecessary risks.”
“It’s what I can offer.” I hold her gaze, willing her to understand what I can’t say. That some things can only be paid in one currency, that some battles must be fought alone, that the man who betrayed me needs to face the Shadowvein Lord, not the man I’m becoming in her presence.
For the first time in my life, I find myself wishing I could be something other than what destiny has carved me into. Something simpler, something worthy of the desire in her eyes.
She sighs, but doesn’t push further.
“We should return to the camp.” I help her to her feet, and we dress in the confines of the shadows, her fingers lingering when they brush against mine. When we’re finished, I release the darkness, allowing moonlight to touch us once again. The camp remains quiet as we walk through it to where her bedroll lies.
I don’t leave her to sleep alone, but stretch out beside her, and she settles against me, her head on my shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep, while I remain vigilant, aware that tomorrow has so many ways to go wrong.
Whatever the future brings, one thing has emerged from tonight, no longer possible for me to ignore or deny. The woman sleeping beside me has become essential in ways I never anticipated. In ways that contradict every lesson survival has taught me. The thought should trouble me. A connection like this represents vulnerability, risk, and potential compromise. I can’t afford attachments. History has proven this repeatedly in blood and betrayal.
Yet I find myself not resisting, but accepting this new reality. Embracing it, even. The silver storm she sent through my body to heal me has changed more than just the visible wounds. Orperhaps it simply woke up something that was already there, buried beneath layers of duty and years of isolation.
My fingers stroke the curve of her shoulder, watching how my shadows caress her skin, and the words of the prophecy whisper through my mind again.
Where shadow leads, storm will follow.
I assumed it meant my destruction. Now I’m no longer sure that’s the case.
Whatever it is, in this moment, I allow myself to acknowledge what I’ve been fighting against for so long.
I am more than my purpose, my birthright, and my shadows.
I am prophecy brought to life.
Chapter Thirty
ELLIE
If you cannot trust the hand, watch the hesitation.
Wisdom of the Wandering Sages
A hand on my shoulder,gentle but insistent, pulls me from sleep. I blink against the gray light of pre-dawn, forcing my eyes open, disoriented for a moment before reality settles around me.
Camp. Blackstone Ridge. Sereven.
“It’s time.” Sacha’s voice is low, carrying an undercurrent of tension that chases away the last wisps of sleep.
I sit up, and look around. The camp is already in motion. Fighters checking weapons, readying horses, preparing for what might be coming. Varam is standing near the edge of the clearing, speaking in hushed tones with two scouts.
“How long before we get there?” I get to my feet, and gather up my bedroll and pack.
“Less than two hours, if we can keep a steady pace. We need to make sure everyone is ready before Sereven arrives.”
My gaze moves to where Lisandra is still sitting beneath a tree, fully alert and looking around. She hasn’t been releasedyet. Her eyes meet mine. I force myself not to look away. After a second, she inclines her head, and breaks eye contact.
“Is she really going to go through with it?” I keep my voice low. “Walk up to Sereven with your message?”
