Page 23 of Elemental Becoming

That is clearly what I’msupposedto do.

I run the water and begin to strip my clothes. When the tub is full and the steam rising, I slip in. The warm water from the bath eases the tension in my muscles, but it doesn’t do much to clear my head.

Everything from the past few days continues to swirl around and around in my mind. It’s almost unbelievable how much has happened: the worm, Lyra almost dying, the chamber, being able to read the markings left in the Shadow Clan ruins, the records we unearthed and our arrival at the capital.

I dry off, slip into a sleeping gown pulled from my bag, and climb into Thane’s bed before I can convince myself to make sense of all that happened today.

The furs are soft and heavy. For the first time in days, I let myself drop into a very deep, dreamless sleep.

INTERRUPTIONS

FOUR

Details are both a scholar’s bane and salvation. In my haste, I search these pages for something grand, only to miss the quiet notes that matter most, the kind that could decide life or death. I think of what we lost fleeing the Starlit Chamber, how many truths were left behind or burned. It weighsheavily on me. Still, we press on. We must trust the old gods and hope what remains is enough to save the realm. And not doom it.

—VALEN’S JOURNAL

AMARA

When I wake, it’s unhurried, responding to a gentle touch—the faintest brush of fingers sweeping hair from my forehead. Warmth lingers beside me, close enough to feel, but not overwhelming.

I blink, still heavy with sleep. And then I see them: smoke-gray eyes, flecked with emberlight.

Thane.

He’s leaning over me, watching me in that quiet, intense way of his. His hand hovers near my temple, like he’s not ready to move away.

And gods, I feel it. Not just his touch—but something deeper.

A quiet pull. A familiar hum.

The bond.

Unlike yesterday, it’s not urgent or overwhelming. Today it is a witness watching, listening, waiting for one of us to finally acknowledge what has always been there.

His breath hitches, feeling the bond. It’s subtle—barely a shift in the air between us—but I notice. We’re still getting used to it. His fingers pull back, his hand dropping to his side. His eyes meet mine—neither of us move away.

I sit up, stretching, our faces just inches from one another. The bond hums between us, quiet but persistent, like a thread woven into the air itself. Thane’s fingers have already left my skin, but I can still feel the space where they lingered.

He watches me, his eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them. And gods—I feel it. The ease. The shift. The way we’ve stopped pretending.

I smile. “Hi.”

“Hi back.” He smiles. “Do you like the room?”

I laugh softly. “It’s very you.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” There is a playful glint inhis eyes.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, it’s a very good room.”

Then I remember the tapestry and Stonekeep.

“When did you have the tapestry of my farm done? And the Stonekeep?!” I ask. “It must have taken so much time and planning. When did you even know I’d be here to see it?”

The questions tumble out faster than I mean them to.

Thane only smiles at me, that same quiet gleam in his eyes, giving nothing away.