Page 135 of Elemental Becoming

Not because I wanted Kieran. Though he is handsome. And gods, the man could kiss.

But because Thane had been watching. Because I wanted him to see it. Because I had been angry and desperate enough to make him feel something. Anything.

And Kieran—gods, Kieran had known exactly what I was doing.

He had hesitated for only the briefest second before kissing me back, deep enough to make a point.

But that feels like a lifetime ago. So much has changed since then.

Kieran guides me easily through the first few steps, fluid as the wind itself, while I’m still adjusting to the weight of layered silk dragging at my legs.

I’m grateful to my father for all those dance lessons he gave me when I was a child.

The basics first. Small steps. Careful counts. How to follow a lead without stepping on his toes. Unless he asked me to dance on his feet. Then he would lead me around the room, twirling until the room blurred around us. I screamed with joy, clinging to his hands like the whole world narrowed down to that dizzying moment.

Later, when I was older and a little more coordinated, we would dance around the living room to songs he hummed from his days in service. My mother and I would take turns being his partner, laughing as we spun in uneven circles across the worn rugs.

Those were simpler days. Days when dancing was just dancing and the only audience I had to think about was my parents beaming at me from across the room.

Kieran’s gaze flicks to mine. He must catch the wistfulness on my face because he immediately steers me elsewhere.

“So,” he says lightly, “how are the good people of Volcaris treating you, Thalor?”

I snort, unable to stop the laugh that escapes me.

“Oh, you mean the ones who are either terrified of me, worshipping me, or trying to figure out how to use me for their own gain? They’re delightful.”

Kieran chuckles, guiding me through a turn with such effortless ease that I barely have to think about the steps at all.

“That sounds about right. Let me guess—the Warlord is handling them with his usual charm and grace?”

I shake my head, still laughing.

“Oh yes. His signature blend of barely concealed death glares and single-word answers is winning over the hearts of nobles everywhere.”

Kieran grins, spinning me smoothly back into step.

“Ah, yes. The Warlord’s diplomacy at its finest.”

I smile as he twirls me again, my skirts flaring out around us.

“You should see the way they flinch when he so much as exhales in their direction.”

Kieran shakes his head, feigning disappointment. “And yet, somehow, he’s still everyone’s favorite.”

I sigh with exaggerated despair. “I don’t understand it either.”

He grins. “And what about you? Do they flinch when you exhale?”

I tilt my head, pretending to seriously consider the question. “More like they flinch when I speak. Or sneeze. Or exist, really.”

Kieran huffs a laugh, his fingers pressing briefly against my back as he leans in slightly.

“Good. Keep them on their toes, Thalor.”

And then, I feel it.

The bond. A flicker. A shift. Not a pull. Not a push.