Page 134 of Elemental Becoming

Kieran grins, all windswept charm and effortless confidence. It’s strange to see him dress like this—formal, polished, unmistakably noble.

His tunic is deep storm-blue, the color of gathering clouds before the sky splits open. Silver embroidery swirls across the fabric in intricate wind patterns, elegant without feeling overly formal. The Air Clan sigil stitched over his chest in silver thread glints beneath the ballroom’s golden light.

Even dressed like this, he still looks like a warrior.

The tunic stretches broad across his shoulders before tapering at his waist, and though his clothes are formal, they’re tailored for movement, meant for someone who refuses to stand still. A silver belt clasp shaped like a falcon in flight rests athis waist, the wings frozen mid-motion. His storm-gray boots, worn despite the elegance of the rest of his attire, only make the contrast sharper.

I raise a brow.

“Look at you, all dressed up. Who knew you cleaned up this well?”

Kieran tilts his head, his blue-silver eyes flicking over me with unhurried appreciation.

“You wound me, Thalor.” He places a hand dramatically over his heart. “I always look good. But I’ll admit, I was hoping for a bit more enthusiasm from you. Maybe a gasp? A swoon? A declaration of undying love?”

I laugh, rolling my eyes.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Mm.”

His gaze lingers just a second too long, the teasing in his expression slipping for the briefest moment. Then it’s gone, hidden behind another lazy smile.

“I suppose I’ll survive,” he drawls. “But if you ever change your mind—”

I roll my eyes again, though some part of me feels the meaning beneath the teasing and deliberately looks away from it.

“Keep dreaming, Vael.”

His blue-silver eyes travel over me again, taking in the deep red of my gown, the way the fabric curves against me, the braids pinned away from my throat and shoulders.

He lets out a low whistle. But then something in his expression softens.

“Wow,” he says quietly, no teasing left in his voice. “You look beautiful, Thalor.”

I glance away, smiling despite myself.

“I—thank you.”

“Well, now that we’ve established that you’re stunning and I’m offensively handsome, what do you say we dance?”

I place my goblet down on a nearby table and smile, taking his extended hand.

Kieran leads me to the dance floor, his grip easy and confident, like he’s done this a thousand times before. And when his hand settles against my back, I notice the placement immediately.

Mid-back. Respectful. Measured.

After a moment, he says, low enough that only I can hear, “Not like the last time we danced, eh?”

No.

Not at all like the last time we danced during the Summer Solstice celebration at the outpost.

That night, the air had been thick with heat and firelight, the scent of summer and smoke curling between us. The music had been louder, wilder—the kind of rhythm that made people reckless.

I had been reckless.

His hand had slid lower, fingers pressing against the small of my back as we moved. That night, I had leaned into him, fingers curling into his tunic as I pulled him closer, tilting my chin up, letting my lips brush his with just enough hesitation to make it look real.