Page 140 of Shadowvein

The crystal itself begins to change. Instead of glowing, it grows darker, pulling light from the room. The surface turns black, reflecting emptiness instead of illumination. The shadows coil through his fingers, wrapping around the stone, and flow beneath its surface like captured smoke. His control over it is absolute—no hesitation, no effort visible in his expression.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, mesmerized by the way the darkness moves.

“Different power, different results.” He offers the crystal back to me. “The crystal is just a focus.”

When I take it, the shadows recede immediately, and it returns to its original transparent state. The ease of his demonstration stings a little.

“Show off,” I mutter, handing it back to him.

“Control comes with time.” He places it back on the shelf. “What matters is that we’ve confirmed your ability exists independently of emotional responses. Itcanbe accessed intentionally, with practice.”

Fatigue crashes over me without warning, a sudden wave that drains the strength from my limbs. My legs buckle beneath me, and I reach blindly for the nearest shelf to steady myself.

Sacha moves faster.

His hand catches my elbow before I can fall. The contact slams into me, breaking whatever fragile balance I still had. The memory of last night’s connection flares hot and immediate. Minds brushing, emotions bleeding across boundaries that should not be accessible.

Surprise. Concern.

He pulls his hand away, and the contact shatters.

“Enough for today.” His voice is cool, crisp. “First attempts always drain more energy than you expect. You need food and rest.”

I don’t even try to argue. I feel like I’ve run for miles without stopping for a breath. Every muscle quivers with exhaustion.

“What was it? The silver light in the crystal … what does it mean?”

He guides me out of the chamber, his hand hovering near myback, close enough to feel the heat of it through the thin tunic. His pace slows to match mine.

“It appears your natural energy manifests as illumination. Light instead of shadow or any other element.”

“But I’m not from here, how can I have magical abilities from your world?”

His head turns, and his eyes meet mine for the first time today. “That, Ellie Bennett, is the question that may determine everything else.”

Back in his quarters, I sink into the nearest chair. Sacha pours me a cup of water without comment. My hands still tingle with the memory of the crystal’s energy, the sensations threading up my arms and into my chest, while my mind reels with the implications.

If I truly have magic abilities in this world, if I can learn to control them, what does that mean? What am I becoming?

“We’ll try again tomorrow.” His attention is already on the map on the table. “Progress will come with practice.”

I'm too tired to form a proper response, so I nod. Even though the exercise he had me perform seemed simple—make the crystal glow—the effort has drained me completely. My limbs feel leaden, but some part of me still hums, restless and unsettled.

If something this small takes so much from me, how exhausting must it be to yield the kind of power I’ve seen Sacha command without flinching?

I watch him as he bends over the map, making notes in that flowing script I can’t read. Whatever he’s planning is consuming him.The distance between us, the distance that broke for a short time last night, has been restored.

Maybe that’s good. Maybe it’s necessary.

Whatever happened—the connection, the kiss, the merging of minds—couldn’t have been real. It’s just the result of strange magic colliding with human emotion. Trying to make sense of it will only complicate things when everything is already complex enough.

For now, I need to focus on what matters. I need to learn how to control these bizarre abilities that keep breaking free at the worst possible moments. I need to understand what they’re doing to me.

And then I need to figure out whether they’re my ticket home, or the very thing that might make returning impossible.

The silver flecks that now shimmer permanently in my eyes suggest the answer is already being written into me, whether I want it or not.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

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