Page 17 of Elemental Becoming

“Yes.” And then, quieter, “Grateful to be alive.”

She takes a deep, shaking breath.

“I haven’t had a moment to process it, I think. With everything that’s happened . . . ” Her voice cracks on the last word.

We both glance at Sera, several strides ahead of us. Her pace doesn’t change, but I know she hears everything.

Lyra exhales. Then, softer still, “I’ll be okay. I’m just tired, and a bit rattled. It’s all catching up to me now.”

She shakes it off and smiles, small but real, then reaches for my hand where it rests at her waist.

Lyra doesn’t let go.

Neither do I.

“Come on,” Sera says gently, waving us forward. “Let’s get you ladies settled.”

The stone beneath my boots is smooth, worn by time. The walls rise high above us, each block etched with the sigils of Fire Clan warlords. Some I recognize from the war tapestries, others are worn so faint by time they seem like ghosts trapped in the rock.

We continue moving through a series of winding corridors, each one leading deeper into the heart of the castle.

“This castle has stood for nearly five hundred years,” Seraexplains, her voice even, but edged with something close to reverence. “It was built during the first war between the Fire Clan and the Shadow Forces. A symbol of endurance and rule.”

And I feel that—the history of this place is etched into every stone.

“It’s beautiful,” I say softly.

Sera nods, but her gaze lingers on me for a moment longer. “It’s also a cage, if you let it be.”

I say nothing. Because she’s right. I already feel the weight of what this castle represents and what I’ve stepped into.

“Come on,” Sera says, waving us forward. “We have more important things to deal with—like letting you rest after your journey.”

Her gaze flicks to Lyra, her brows drawing together as she takes in the pallor of her skin, the purple shadows beneath her eyes, the way her bright tone compensates for the fatigue weighing on her body. She registers it, then politely looks away. She doesn’t ask what happened, but she knows something is off.

Lyra lets out a dramatic sigh, finally dropping my hand. “So no time to admire all the gloomy war tapestries? Tragic.”

“You’ll live,” Sera says with a laugh.

“Barely.”

My eyes widen as I shoot Lyra a sharp look. She’s already joking about nearly dying. Of course she is.

What?she mouths.

I roll my eyes but follow, letting my thoughts shift with the movement.

The air changes as we climb higher, the sounds of the castle fading behind thick walls, the weight of history giving way to something quieter. More personal. We’re leaving behind the halls of rulers and warlords . . . and heading toward the space where one still lives.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

Sera gives me a sidelong glance, almost like she’s been waiting for me to ask. “To your quarters,” she says smoothly. Then, casually, “Thane insisted you stay in the Warlord’s chambers.”

Lyra’s gaze bores into me. I glance at her and—oh. She’s grinning.

My eyes narrow in warning, but she only arches a brow, utterly unrepentant. With my free arm, I poke her in the ribs, the other still supporting her in staying balanced.

Lyra barely flinches, her grin only widening.