Page 155 of Elemental Becoming

Revic inclines his head once. “Understood, Warlord.”

But even after he steps away, the irritation lingers beneath my skin. Because this is what leadership actually is.

Not crowns. Not power. Not glory.

It’s watching the people you care about become targets the moment the world realizes how important they are.

AMARA

The ballroom hums with life, the music getting louder as dancers move in elegant formations, silks and embroidered tunics swirling in a sea of color. The scent of jasmine and spiced wine lingers in the air, mixing with the faint heat of burning sconces that line the towering stone walls.

Gold light gleams off polished marble floors, and chandeliers overhead flicker like captured starlight, illuminating conversations weaving endlessly between nobles, warlords, and diplomats.

Eventually, I politely excuse myself from the Kaelens to go looking for Thane. It isn’t difficult to find him because the bond leads me straight to him. I follow the quiet pull through the crowd until the sea of people parts just enough for him to come into view.

His back faces me, the line of his shoulders tense beneath the dark fabric of his formal coat.

Master Revic is walking away. Then Thane lifts his head slightly and turns in my direction. He must feel me through the bond too. And the moment his eyes find mine, the tension leaves his body almost instantly.

I smile before I can stop myself.

As he steps aside, I catch sight of Rowena standing besidehim with Sera. The resemblance between her and Thane is almost startling.

“Hi,” I say as I step beside him.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, smiling already.

He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close. Then he leans in, his lips a breath from my ear.

“Don’t leave me again.”

Never.

I press my lips together, looking down as I try—and fail—not to smile.

When I lift my head again, I find Rowena practically glowing while Sera watches us with quiet satisfaction.

“Oh, knock it off,” Thane says, exasperated. “Can you please go somewhere else for a while?”

Sera laughs as she pulls her reluctant wife away, still beaming at us.

The moment they disappear into the crowd, I exhale softly. But before I can fully collect my thoughts, another figure steps into the space beside us.

“You’re handling this well.”

Valen’s voice is calm, his presence quieter than the chaos around us, but no less commanding.

The ballroom continues to move: courtiers exchanging pleasantries, warriors drinking in corners, the ever-present buzz of conversation laced with political undertones. Some are discussing alliances, military strategies, and the looming war. Some are discussing me.

Valen notices it all. Thane does too, though he makes no move to step away from me.

“Define ‘well,’” I say dryly.

“You haven’t burned the ballroom down yet,” Valen replies, amusement flickering briefly through his gaze.

“Yet,” I echo with a scoff.

Beyond us, I catch glimpses of guests watching from the edges of the room. Some whisper behind raised glasses. Others glance away too quickly when I catch them staring.