Page 117 of Elemental Becoming

“It’s as natural as breathing. As certain as the ground beneath my feet.”

The bond pulses softly between us.

Like it has been waiting for this. Like it already knew. Like it was never prophecy. Like it was always our choice.

And I have never been more certain of anything in my life.

Thane exhales softly, his forehead still resting against mine.

“What’s the point of defeating the Shadow Forces,” he murmurs, “if you’re not in my life this way . . . if I can’t hold you like this . . . or kiss you like this?”

Then I move. Or maybe he does. And then the space between us disappears.

The kiss is soft at first, then deeper, more urgent. The moment his tongue brushes against mine, heat surges through me faster than I can contain, months of longing and tension unraveling all at once. My fingers twist into his tunic, pulling him closer.

Closer.

Closer.

“I love you, Thane.” The words break against his mouth. “All of me is yours. I would go to the Shadow Realm and back with you.”

Thane’s arms tighten around me, solid and unyielding.

Anchoring me to him.

And we fall—like stars breaking orbit, by a pull so certain, so perfect.

The bond pulses again. Stronger. Deeper. Sealing something between us, threading itself further into us. I feel it in my chest, in my skin, in the spaces where he touches me.

And gods, so does he.

Thane tightens his grip, as if he is anchoring himself to me, in me. Like letting go would destroy him. And then, he speaks.

His voice is low, rough, edged with something wrecked and reverent all at once. “You are the first thing I have ever truly wanted for myself. Not because of fate. Not because of the bond. Not because the gods willed it.” His eyes burn into mine, unwavering. “Because I chose you.”

His forehead presses into mine.

“And I will always choose you.”

I stop trying to hold myself together.

The bond settles between us, like it has finally completed what it was meant to do.

And gods help me, there is only one way to answer him. I reach for him, dragging him back down to my mouth.

A promise. A confirmation.

A kiss that says everything words cannot. That mirrors his own confession, his own choice. That tells him, without question:

I am yours, too.

Thane answers my kiss with everything he has. His handstighten around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer.

Something his hands were always meant to carry.

Something he never intends to let go of again.

The kiss lingers afterward, the warmth of him wrapped around me. For a moment, it is only us—the slow rhythm of his breathing, his forehead resting against mine, the way neither of us wants to move.