Page 165 of Elemental Becoming

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” I say, dread tightening in my stomach.

Thane’s eyes lock onto mine, his jaw set like steel. “Then we take out whoever’s leading them.”

As if his words summon the mysterious form holding all these shadow soldiers together, something moves at the edge of my vision. A figure steps out from the darkness itself.

Taller. More solid.

A presence so profoundly wrong that it seems to warp the very air around it. Unlike the others, it moves with quiet purpose, each step calm, deliberate, inevitable.

My heart, my bond with Thane, and my bond with Calryx fall into perfect rhythm.

One beat.

Then silence.

The world doesn’t stop.

It simply forgets how to move.

THE COMMANDER

TWENTY-TWO

“Dragon channeling gives the dragon and the rider a new connection. It was said it originally helped them communicate. Over time, the two became more powerful together. As their bond grew, the dragon was able to enhance his/her rider with greater magics and abilities.”

—VALEN’S JOURNAL

AMARA

Between us, the bond pulls insistently, as though calling me closer to Thane.

The dark form locks eyes with me. And I feel it.

Suffocating. Ancient. Malicious.

Calryx’s voice slams into my mind again, more frantic thanbefore.

“The Shadow Commander is coming for you. Don’t let him near you!”

My heart clenches.

The weight of his gaze is like a hand closing around my throat—not touching me, but pressing down all the same, saturated with power.

The air around us begins to spiral violently, ripping strands of hair loose from their pins and whipping at the ruined fabric of my dress.

My eyes snap toward Thane. He’s already looking at me. And for the first time tonight, I see something close to terror in his expression.

His dark hair lashes wildly around his face. His cloak is gone. Burns scar the fabric of his tunic while thin cuts streak across his arms and face.

Beyond the castle walls, a roar of frustration shakes the night, deep and primal, echoing through stone and sky alike.

“Damn these walls and frail humans!”

The massive figure emerges from a portal that looks less like a doorway and more like a tear in reality. It is a circle of absolute blackness, so empty that the light around it bends inward, drawn toward its center before disappearing entirely. Smoke, ash, and loose stones drift toward the void, pulled by an invisible force that defies reason. The darkness does not merely block the light. It devours it.

From that impossible emptiness steps a towering man cloaked in living shadow, the darkness writhing around him like a storm given shape. He stands amid the shattered grandeur of the ballroom, vast and deeply unnatural, as though the void itself has taken human form.