Page 208 of Elemental Becoming

He sits up, the sheet slipping low on his hips. My stomach flips at the sight of the carved V at his waist, and irritation flares at my body’s betrayal. Even now, when my heart is heavy, part of me still wants him.

Again, he doesn’t close the distance. He doesn’t reach for me, and I don’t reach for him.

I want to. Gods, I want to. But I feel flayed open, exposed in ways I never chose. Too much of me is still raw from everything that passed between us.

“Yeah,” he says thoughtfully. “This bond thing is . . . a lot.”

A brief silence follows.

“And I didn’t mean to hear your thoughts. But I’m not sorry I did.”

I finally meet his eyes. Whatever distance had settled between us is gone. What I find there isn’t restraint or duty or fear. It’s simply Thane, looking at me with an honesty so unguarded it steals the breath from my lungs.

“You meant every word, and I needed to hear it. Amara,” he adds, quieter now, “you know all I want is to protect you, right?”

He runs a hand through his hair, the movement tense anduncertain.

“I’m not putting the armor back on. Not like that. I’m not shutting you out. I just . . . ” He exhales, his jaw tightening. “I don’t ever want to be the reason you get hurt. Not because of my power. Not because of something I don’t understand yet.”

His eyes meet mine. There is still fear there, but there is honesty, too.

“That’s what I’m trying to prevent. I want to protect you.”

A scoff escapes before I can stop it. It isn’t cruel, just bitter at all that we have to endure. The Shadeheart. The bond. The Shadow Element. It feels like every time we catch our breath, something else crashes into us.

For a moment, I let myself feel how unfair it all is.

“Protect me?” I shake my head. “Thane, I’m the Spiritborn. I’m standing at the center of a war that’s coming. There isn’t a version of this story where I walk away untouched.”

His expression falters.

“I’m being hunted, studied, propped up like some answer to a prophecy I didn’t ask for. There’s no shield big enough to protect me from what’s coming. So don’t lie there and pretend your shadows are the biggest threat I face.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to rein it in, but the words are already out—raw and honest. His expression falters, but he holds my gaze.

“But that’s out there,” he says, his voice low as he gestures beyond the windows. “I can’t control that. I can’t control what happens beyond these walls.”

And there it is. When the world spirals, Thane reaches for whatever he can still hold onto. Whatever he can still protect, especially the people he loves.

My voice softens, but it doesn’t lose its edge.

“I know you can’t control the world,” I say. “But I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to stop trying to protect me fromyou.”

He doesn’t answer, but I see the tension settle across his shoulders and recognize the fear he’s trying so hard not to show. Sometimes I think Thane carries the weight of the world for so long that he forgets not every burden belongs to him.

His eyes never leave mine.

“I’m asking you to stop trying to protect me from you,” I say again, to make sure he understands.

The silence settles between us like fresh snow, soft enough to look harmless and heavy enough to change the shape of everything. He holds my gaze as tension settles across his shoulders, and I recognize the fear he is trying so hard not to show.

We sit like that for several minutes, neither of us quite sure how to bridge the distance that has opened between us.

Finally, he exhales.

“Amara, that’s not—”

“It is.”