Page 93 of Stormvein
My entire life has been built on duty. The rise of the Authority taught me the cost of every action. Imprisonment showed me the weight of every word.
Distractions can cost lives, and every decision needs clear focus. The Veinwardens are looking to me for leadership after decades without. They need the Vareth’el, not a man distracted by silver light and soft lips and a connection with a woman who shouldn’t be here.
And Ellie … Ellie deserves better than half-measures and divided attention. Whatever this is between us, it demands more than I can safely give while Sereven still draws breath and the Authority still stands.
I force the memory of the kiss away, and lock it behind doors in my mind to be examined later … when there’s time. When it’s safe. When the Authority lies in ashes and Sereven has paid for his crimes. When I no longer have to be only the Vareth’el, the Shadowvein Lord. When I can be justSacha. If that man even exists beneath the duty and the darkness.
When vengeance is complete and the future can begin.
The irony doesn’t escape me. For twenty-seven years, I had nothing but time to think, to plan, and to remember. Now that the binds that tied me to the tower are broken … Now that I haveher… time is the one luxury I can’t afford and freedom still feels like a dream I can’t hold onto.
For now, there must be only focus. Only strategy.
Throwing back the sheets, I strip out of the tunic but leave on my pants, and climb into bed. Lying down, I focus on shadows and Voidcraft, weaving illusion around me, turning myself back into the frail, tortured mess that was carried through the fortress earlier. The sunken cheeks. The destroyed eye. The gray pallor of skin ravaged by infection and blood loss. The hint of fever sweat on my brow. Each detail crafted with exquisite attention to the reality I so recently lived.
Once I’m certain everything is in place, I focus on the voices in the other room. I let a tendril of awareness slip into the shadows beneath the door. Not enough to see what is happening, that would require more concentration than I can spare while maintaining this illusion, but enough to hear.
“I need to see him.” Lisandra’s voice is immediately recognizable. The Veinwarden leader of Stonehaven has a distinctive tone—low and firm, carrying a note of command that’s been earned through years of keeping people alive against impossible odds. But there’s something else beneath it now. An urgency that doesn’t fit her usual composure. A ragged edge I’ve never heard from her, not even in the worst days of our campaign against the Authority.
Warnings sound in my head. Urgency means desperation. Desperation means unpredictability. And unpredictability can be dangerous.
“He’s resting.” Ellie sounds firm. No hint of the kiss we shared in her tone. No indication of what the knock on the door might have disturbed. Just steady determination and a protective edge that is oddly touching. “He isn’t well enough for visitors.”
It should bother me that I can picture her in the doorway, silver-streaked brown eyes challenging, chin lifted slightly in that way she has when she’s about to argue with me.
“He’s not only our Vareth’el, Ellie. I fought with him for years.” Lisandra’s appeal to our shared history carries weight. Shedidfight alongside me before my capture. One of many who believed in the cause, who risked everything to resist the Authority’s growing power. “I have the right to say goodbye.”
“I can give you an update. His fever is rising. The infection is spreading. He needs rest.” Ellie’s lie flows smoothly. No hesitation, no tell in her voice. She’s adapting quickly to this world of half-truths and necessary deceptions. To the reality that survival often depends on what others believe rather than what is true.
“I’m not asking. I need to speak with him.” An edge enters Lisandra’s voice. Urgency giving way to something harder. Something demanding … Something that raises my guard. There’s a note I recognize from battlefield commands. A tone that overrides objections, that expects immediate compliance … only Ellie has never served under her command. She hasn’t learned to follow Veinwarden orders. “It can’t wait until morning.”
“And I’m telling you that isn’t possible.” Ellie stands firm. “He’s too weak for visitors.”
“You haven’t left his side since you returned.” Lisandra changes direction, and turns to concern for Ellie’s welfare. Understandable after so much time spent together. “You need someone to take over for you, so you can rest. You’re exhausted. Anyone can see that.”
“I’m fine.” Ellie’s voice holds that stubborn note I’ve come to recognize. The same determination that kept her searching for a door in the tower, that kept her moving through the desert. That refused to believe I was dead when everyone else had given up.
“At least let me sit with him while you get something to eat. Just for an hour.”
“As you can see, there is food here.” There’s a rustle of movement. “Everyone has made sure I have everything I need. Telren sent stew and bread. Tisera brought tea and healing herbs.” Her voice softens slightly. “I appreciate your concern, but I promised I wouldn’t leave him.”
The loyalty in her voice stirs something in me. Something I haven’t felt in decades. Not since I learned the cost of trust.
The tension builds with each exchange, the pretense of courtesy wearing thinner with every response. Something is driving Lisandra—something urgent enough to make her press beyond normal boundaries. To challenge Ellie’s role as my companion. To insist on seeing me despite being told repeatedly that I’m too weak for visitors.
“I hate to do this, Ellie, but I need you to step aside.” There’s a pause, and the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn reaches me. Metal sliding against leather, a sound every fighter knows intimately. A sound that has no place in these chambers, in this sanctuary.
“What are you doing?” Ellie’s voice registers genuine shock, and I have to force myself to hold still, to stay where I am.
Every instinct urges me to rise, to intervene, to protect her. But knowledge is worth more than immediate action. I need to understand what drives Lisandra’s desperation before I reveal my hand. But if she threatens Ellie again, principles be damned.
“I didn’t want it to be this way, but I need to speak to him before it’s too late.” Lisandra’s voice breaks slightly on the last words. “So please, step aside. Don’t make me hurt you, Ellie. I don’t want to do that, but I will.”
The threat hangs in the air, shocking in its directness. No one in Stonehaven draws weapons, unless it’s in practice sessions. No one threatens another member without cause. It’s one ofour oldest rules, established when we first formed to resist the Authority’s purge of Veinbloods. After Ashenvale fell, after we scattered, we swore that whatever else happened, we would never turn on our own.
The Stonehaven commander may have forgotten our laws against violence within these walls, but I will enforce them if necessary. No one threatens what’s mine.
The possessiveness of that thought should disturb me more than it does.
