Page 207 of Elemental Becoming

His thumb grazes my cheek. The touch is tender, but I recognize the shift immediately. He isn’t pulling away from me. He’s pulling back into himself, rebuilding the walls he let down only moments ago.

The control is back, only now it wears a different face—quieter, sharper, and wrapped in armor instead of walls.

I frown. He must mistake my expression for something else, because a dry, crooked smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice low. “We can still have sex.”

After a brief pause, he adds, “I’ll just be more careful next time.”

He says it like a joke, as though it’s no big deal, as though that’s what I was worried about. But the words land sideways, off-kilter and hollow, because this was never just about sex. This was about trust. About surrendering control to someone else and discovering that the world didn’t end when he did. It was about what it cost him to let go, even for a moment.

Now he’s already trying to pull it back in, already reaching for the cage. Not because he doesn’t care, but because theexperience frightened him in a way he isn’t ready to admit.

My heart aches.

It aches for the boy who was taught that his power made him dangerous. It aches for the man still trying to believe he can be more than the stories he was raised on.

“Amara.” His voice cuts through my thoughts, quiet but certain.

“I heard all of that.”

My heart stumbles.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My shields are down.

I don’t even know when it happened—whether it was when he touched me, when the bond pulsed with the shadows, or when I climaxed beneath him. All I know is that somewhere along the way, I stopped guarding my thoughts. And he heard every one of them.

There is no backpedaling now. I shift out of his arms and sit up, pulling the sheet around me. The room suddenly feels colder. Not because of the air, but because everything I’ve been trying not to say is now sitting between us.

Thane watches me in silence. He doesn’t move to close the distance, and somehow that makes it worse.

I stare at the far wall. “That wasn’t meant for you to hear.”

My voice isn’t sharp. Just quiet and tired.

“I know,” he says eventually.

The understanding in his voice lands harder than an argument ever could. I close my eyes for a moment.

“I’m not mad. Not about you hearing it.” I swallow. “But I didn’t get the chance to process any of it. To figure out what was mine to carry and what needed to be said out loud. Now I don’t get to take any of it back—not even the parts I wasn’t ready to share.”

I finally look at him, and my heart feels unbearably heavy.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Thane. And I hate that I might have.”

His jaw clenches, though not in anger. If anything, he seems intent on hearing every word.

“It’s not just about the bond,” I say, my voice softer now. “It’s about watching you pull away. Watching you put the armor back on before I could even ask you to stay.”

Silence settles between us again, carrying a truth neither of us seems eager to look at.

“I’m not ashamed of what I felt,” I add. “But I wish I could have chosen when and how to show it to you.”

I drag my hands down my face.

“This bond makes everything louder,” I murmur. “Messier.”