Page 12 of Elemental Becoming

Thane was just here only days ago, but Rowena isn’t hugging the man she last saw. She’s hugging the brother she thought she’d lost years ago. The one softened, steadied, reshaped by all that we’ve shared in the past two days.

“Are you quite done?” The voice cuts through the moment, smooth and measured, but with an edge of something else.

I turn.

A man is standing just beyond the council members, arms folded, his golden, sharp eyes on me. Tall. Straw-colored hair falls to his shoulders. A refined presence that is practiced andcontrolled.

But I feel the weight of his assessing gaze.

“Malek,” Rowena says, turning without hesitation. “You missed all the fun.”

“Seems I arrived just in time,” Malek replies, his gaze flicking briefly to me before settling on Thane. “Warlord. It’s good to have you back so soon.”

Thane’s lips form a hard line. He’s likely thinking of the real reason we’re at the capital: to research the curse flowing through his blood.

Then his expression smooths into a warm smile. “Hello, Malek. Being Warlord tends to pull me in several directions at once.”

He takes Malek’s hand, shaking it firmly. “It’s good to see you.”

“We weren’t expecting you,” Valen says smoothly, stepping forward. I hadn’t noticed him dismounting to join us.

Valen turns to Rowena and Sera. “It’s wonderful to see you both after all this time.”

Their hands disappear in his larger ones as he takes them in greeting.

“You as well,” Rowena says, her eyes bright.

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment, like no time has passed at all.

Sera smiles warmly, her dark braids falling over her shoulders as she dips her head.

“I was nearby,” Malek cuts in. “And it’s not every day that a lost legend arrives at the gates of Volcaris.”

His eyes cut back to me, a spark of curiosity in them.

Recalling Thane’s counsel on what to expect when Lord Toren Hale and Lady Evelyne of the Greythorne Keep visited the outpost weeks ago, I straighten, lifting my chin.

“And now that I’m here?” I ask.

“Now,” Malek says, his lips curling into something like a smile, “we see if you live up to the name they’ve given you.”

Thane’s jaw ticks.

“She already has,” Thane says, with all the certainty of a Warlord.

Malek’s expression doesn’t change, but his gaze flickers slightly.

Thane stands beside me, not in front of me, not shielding me. His fingers lace with mine.

His voice, when he speaks again, carries the weight of the Warlord. “It’s easy to sit in the capital and weigh the worth of others, Malek.”

A beat.

“Harder to stand beside them when it matters.”

Malek continues to smile, his eyes dropping quickly to our joined hands, then back up to Thane.

“A fair point, Warlord.”