Page 103 of Veinblood
“This is getting worse,” Mira says. “Each wave is stronger than the last.”
And then something changes. For the first time since this onslaught began, it isn’t fear that reaches me. It’s fury. Pure, focused wrath that burns like silver fire.
The sky splits apart above our heads.
Lightning forks across the heavens in brilliant branches of white-hot power. The bolts come again and again, each one big enough to illuminate the entire forest. Thunder follows, shaking the earth beneath us hard enough to rattle my teeth.
Again. And again. A relentless barrage of light hammering down toward Ashenvale.
“Shadows preserve us,” Varam breathes, staring at the continuous display of raw power splitting the sky.
The air tastes of metal and ozone and something else. Something that makes my shadows rise in recognition.
“It’s Ellie.” I know it as well as I know my own reflection. I’ve seen how her power manifests when her emotions peak, but never like this.
This isn’t the wild, uncontrolled discharge I’ve witnessed. This is Ellie weaponizing that power deliberately.
“She’s not just defending herself anymore. She’s attacking.”
Whatever threatened her has pushed too far. The thought should comfort me. She’s fighting back, she’s not helpless. Instead, it adds new layers of concern. Her abilities remain largely untrained and unpredictable. If she’s using them in some kind of combat, without proper control, the backlash could destroy her as surely as any enemy …
Then everything changes again. The chaotic storm of emotions falls back. In the sudden quiet, something new takes its place. A presence brushing against the inside of my mind with the gentleness of a lover’s touch.
Across our connection comes a request that transcends words. She’s reaching out, asking for something that could burn us both to ash if handled wrong.
She wants my power. She wants to merge it with her own.
The intimacy of the request steals what little breath I have left.
To open myself that completely, to let her draw directly from the source of what makes me who I am … It’s an act of trust that could destroy me, if she betrays it. More than trust, it’s a vulnerability so complete that even thinking about it makes my shadows recoil.
But she may be fighting for her life. And I would give her anything.
“Take it. Take whatever you need.”
The bond transforms between one heartbeat and the next. What was once a bridge becomes a torrent as I willingly tear down every barrier between us. The sensation defies description. It’s like having someone reach into your soul and become part of what makes you uniquely … you.
My shadows pour across the distance, guided by her will, shaped by her need. They don’t just flow to her, they merge with her power. Darkness and silver fire, unified into something new. Something prophesied.
Shadow and storm.
The feedback hits me like lightning. Every nerve ending ignites at once. My pulse stops, stutters, then races so fast individual beats blur together. And through it all, I can feel her power building.
Shadow-touched lightning fills the sky. A display of will made manifest, determination given deadly form.
Fear transforms into triumph. Desperation becomes grim satisfaction. Whatever she faced, whatever threatened her, it stands no chance against this new force we’ve created together.
My familiar manifests one final time, drawn by the surge of power flowing through me. This time it holds its shape long enough to spread phantom wings in fierce pride before the magical feedback tears it apart again.
The effort costs me everything I have left. Sound fades to a distant roar, as my hearing gives way to the thunder in my own blood. Light becomes dark as my vision fails. And the last thing I remember is Ellie’s presence, exhausted but victorious. Alive, deadly, and utterly magnificent.
Then darkness claims me entirely.
When consciousness returns, the first thing I notice isn’t the pounding in my skull or the taste of blood in my mouth.
It’s the silence.
The bond, which has hummed with constant awareness since it formed, lies quiet as death. No flutter of emotion, no sense of her presence, no indication that Ellie exists anywhere in this world or any other. The absence is more devastating than the magical backlash, more painful than broken ribs or drained reserves.
