Page 133 of Elemental Becoming

He lifts the whiskey to his mouth again, taking another deep sip, then hisses through his teeth at the afterburn.

“Lord Oryn Strathir can be a pain in the ass,” he mutters. “Stubborn as hell when he wants to be. But he’s still working with us. He still understands what’s at stake.”

He runs a hand along his jawline, his gaze fixed somewhere distant.

“We can count on Air Clan at least. For now.”

Hearing about everything Thane is responsible for is one thing. Seeing it up close is something else entirely. The negotiations. The alliances. The endless balancing of personalities, ambitions, fears. Until tonight, I hadn’t realized how much of his life is spent holding everything together.

And through all of it, he makes space for me.

Thane steps closer and cups my cheek in his palm, the simple touch easing something tight inside me.

“Amara,” he says quietly, his voice soft with exhaustion and something deeper, “this is the worst part of the night. The fucking politics.”

He leans closer, enough that only I can hear him.

“I still have to go speak with more nobles. More guests. I don’t want you standing there listening to all of it, worrying, or getting bored out of your mind. This is your night too; you get to have fun.”

He pauses, his thumb brushing gently across my cheek.

“Unless you want to.” He offers a small smile. “It’s your choice.”

I lift my hand and cover his where it cradles my face, anchoring myself in the quiet strength of his touch for a moment longer. Then, gently, I draw his hand away.

“I think I need a break,” I admit.

The words taste strange on my tongue, but true.

“I’m still learning about this world, Thane. Tonight . . . it’s a lot.”

His thumb brushes my knuckles before he lets me go.

“Take whatever time you need, love,” he responds.

Through the bond, I feel nothing but quiet support. A small smile tugs at my mouth as I meet his eyes.

“Go impress your nobles, Warlord,” I say softly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll find Lyra. Or your sister and Sera.”

The faintest flicker of a smile crosses his face. Tired, but real.

He leans in, brushing a kiss just above my temple. But when he pulls back, something heated flickers in his expression, the same restrained hunger I saw earlier in the alcove.

“While I listen to these politicians drone on,” he murmurs, “I’ll be thinking about what I’m going to do to you later tonight.”

Before I can even catch my breath, he leans in again, capturing my mouth in one brief kiss. When he pulls away, my lips still tingle as thoughts of later flood my mind.

Yes.

Definitely later.

Without another word, he turns and walks back into the lion’s den, moving with a quiet, lethal swagger that makes my toes curl in my slippers.

And gods help me, all I can think about now islater.

I start toward the dining tables on the opposite side of the dance floor, still watching Thane disappear into the crowd, and nearly collide with Kieran.

“Hi!” I blurt out, immediately forgetting the tension from moments ago at the sight of my friend.