Page 175 of Stormvein
“Relax. I’ve got you.”
The simple words break something inside me, and I sag back against his chest, allowing myself to accept the comfort he’s offering. We ride in silence until we finally emerge from Silverthread Pass. The night air feels blessedly clean compared to the charnel house we’ve left behind.
"Your power is different from mine," he says softly. "It comes from a place of instinct rather than intention."
“Is that bad?”
He laughs softly, the sound vibrating through me. “Just different. It could explain why it’s been so difficult for you to control it.”
His raven soars overhead, drawing his attention away. He processes whatever information it brings with a slight nod, but his arm never loosens its hold on me.
"We’re close now. Less than an hour to Thornspire Keep."
I look down at my hands, still shaking, skin marked with faint silver lines that pulse with my heartbeat. Evidence of what lives inside me, what I’ve become. Whatever I was back in Chicago, that woman is gone now. This power flowing through my veins is mine. This is who I am.
“What if I lose control again? At Thornspire?”
His grip tightens, protective and possessive. “Then I’ll be there to help you find it again.”
The certainty in his voice should be reassuring, but it isn’t. Whatever awaits us at Thornspire, I’m terrified that this wild, uncontrolled part of me will put everyone at risk. That when the moment comes, I’ll be the liability that costs us everything. CostsSachaeverything.
His warmth against my back, the steady rhythm of his breathing against my neck, and the way his fingers unconsciously trace patterns on my side. All of it reminds me of what’s at stake. What I could lose. What we could all lose.
I need to learn control, and quickly. This isn’t about my survival anymore, or even trying to get home. It’s about these people who have accepted me, bled for me. It’s about Sacha, who risks everything for his people.
Because I’ve just had a brutal lesson in what happens when power responds to fear rather than purpose. And at Thornspire, fear will be waiting for me with open arms.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
SACHA
The Vein remembers what the world tries to forget.
Sayings of the Earthvein Sages
Ellie’s skincontinues to flicker erratically with bursts of light as we ride away from Silverthread Pass. She leans back against my chest, her body still trembling from the encounter with the glassbacks. I can feel the tension in her muscles, the occasional shudder that passes through her. It’s not just fatigue. Her familiar is still active, still pulling from her essence, feeding on her fear. And she’s too shaken to send it back.
The mist stalker pads alongside my horse, its fur matted with caustic ichor from the glassbacks. Every time Ellie looks at it, she flinches. The connection between them has become a wound that won’t close, causing her to relive what happened in Silverthread Pass over and over. It’s a dangerous distraction that leaves her vulnerable when we can least afford it.
It shouldn’t still be out. She knows that. But instinct is overriding logic, fear trumping knowledge. She doesn't understand the damage it’s still doing to her focus.
“You need to recall it. As long as it remains manifested like this, it will continue draining you.”
“I can’t.” She turns her face away from the mist stalker. “Every time I try to connect with it, I feel everything again. The burning, the tearing. It’s too much.”
I understand her reluctance. The shared sensation she experienced in Silverthread Pass was overwhelming, leaving her physically sick. But her familiarmustreturn to her or she’ll never regain her strength.
And she’ll need that strength soon. We both will.
There’s no margin for delay, not with Thornspire looming ahead, not with Sereven waiting with his crystal and his hatred. But pushing her too hard now could shatter what remains of her control. I have to get her there without breaking her in the process.
“Look at me.” I shift the reins to one hand and use the other to turn her face toward me. Her eyes meet mine. “The familiar is your power, not your enemy. It’s not something separate that can hurt you. Right now, you’re fighting it instead of directing it.”
She doesn’t argue, but I see the hesitation. The fear. She’s still caught in that moment. When the pain of her familiar felt like it might tear her apart from the inside. And maybe part of her is afraid that if she reaches for it again, she won’t survive it this time.
“How do I stop that?” The question holds genuine desperation. Her fingers find my wrist where I’m still holding her face. The contact sends a burst of light skating across my skin.
“Don’t try to control it directly. Don’t focus on what it’s experiencing. That’s where the pain comes from, trying to process sensations that aren’t meant for the human mind.” I move my thumb slightly, tracing the edge of her cheek. “Thinkof it as light returning to its source. Not absorbing its sensations, but simply allowing it to dissolve back into your power. Like drawing breath into your lungs.”
