Page 137 of Elemental Becoming

“Lyra almost didn’t make it.”

His jaw tics once. “I know.”

I blink twice, forcing myself back into the present. “But I was able to heal her.”

Kieran guides me through another smooth turn. Then his chin tilts subtly toward the other side of the ballroom.

“Well, if I had any doubts about Lyra’s recovery, they’re gone now.”

I follow his gaze just as Garrick spins Lyra across the dance floor. She laughs, head tipped back, red hair catching the golden light as she moves like she was never on the brink of death just two days ago.

Relief loosens something tight inside me at the sight of her. So alive. So untouched by what almost happened.

And yet . . . something about it unsettles me.

Because itdidhappen. I felt her blood, warm and slick between my fingers. I saw the awful stillness creeping into her skin; the way her breath had already begun to falter.

She should be resting, recovering. At the very least feeling some lingering effects of nearly dying. But instead, she’s here.

Dancing. Laughing. Whole.

No other healer in recorded history—not one—has restored someone that completely in such little time. I hadn’t been thinking when it happened. I had only wanted, with everything in me, to save her.

And now Lyra moves like she was never at death’s edge to begin with. I should be grateful. I am. But beneath it, something quieter lingers. Something cold and impossible to ignore.

What did I do? What did I unlock?

Kieran hums thoughtfully beside me, blissfully unaware of the panic quietly building beneath my calm exterior.

“I knew you had some powerful magics, Thalor, but damn.” His mouth curves into a grin. “There’s definitely something extra in those hands of yours.”

I snort, shaking my head as I shove the unease back down.

“Oh, shut up.”

He grins wider, entirely unrepentant.

“No, really. If you ever want to test those miraculous healing hands on me, I’m more than willing to volunteer as tribute.”

I nudge him—harder than necessary.

“You’re insufferable.”

Kieran just laughs, utterly unbothered.

“And yet, here you are, still dancing with me.”

He scans my face, reading the things I’m carefully leaving unsaid. I have to fight the urge to look away. I swallow the guilt down anyway because that’s the cost of this role. I have to hide things from my friends.

Suddenly, Thane’s exhaustion makes a little more sense.

“And what about the passageway?” he presses.

Right.

The story.

I temper my expression carefully.