Page 264 of Elemental Becoming

The words strike like a death blow.

“I lost friends,” she continues. “I lost fellow warriors. The Shadow Forces came to the capital because of you.”

She doesn’t raise her voice. She doesn’t need to.

“So the next time you feel like reminding everyone who you think you are, or what you think you deserve, try remembering what it cost the rest of us.”

Then she turns on her heel and walks away, her white skirts flaring behind her as she disappears into the crowd.

Her words land like a slap, meant to leave a bruise. It takes everything in me not to stare after her. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I blink hard, forcing themback, willing myself to stay composed.

But it’s no use.

Suddenly, smoke-gray eyes are looking at me with concern, his hand already cupping my cheek. The warmth of his palm is grounding.

And unbearable.

“What’s wrong?” Thane asks.

Of all the Elemental gods.

This fucking bond.

It has given me away again. Pulled him straight to me when I needed a moment—justonemoment—to break in peace.

And I can’t even pretend it’s because of the ceremony. Or the weight of the names. Or the flame still burning at the center of the Ring.

He knows.

I force a tight smile, my throat too constricted for anything more.

“Later,” I say quietly, the word catching on the way out.

My eyes meet his, pleading. Not for comfort. Not right now.

Just for space. Just a little time.

Thane studies me for a long moment. His thumb brushes my cheek, gentle as a breath, before he gives a tight nod and steps back. I turn away and take a steadying breath as he returns to the cluster of court members gathered near the pyre.

I step down from the dais and make my way to one of the empty rows. The obsidian bench is cool beneath me. The great ceremonial fire has settled into glowing embers, no longer roaring now that the ceremony has ended and conversation has replaced ritual.

For a while, I just sit there, letting the grief and guilt and anger settle where they will.

Then Calryx’s presence brushes softly against my mind.

With it comes the memory of the quilt my mother knittedwhen I was small. The one she used to pull up to my chin before kissing my forehead goodnight. The edges were frayed. The stitching uneven. But gods, I would give anything to feel that warmth again.

“Shall I incinerate her for you?”Calryx offers mildly.“I really don’t mind. Xaroth informed me of how insufferable she is.”

A startled laugh escapes me before I can stop it, half choked, half grateful.

“There she is,”Calryx says softly.“My Virelya.”

The ache doesn’t disappear. The shame and anger and exhaustion are all still there. But her words settle over them like a balm I didn’t know I needed.

“It’s all just . . . a lot, Calryx.”My voice is barely above a whisper.“I know I keep saying this. But everything keeps changing so fast. Every time I think I understand my place in this new world, it shifts under my feet and I lose my footing all over again.”

Calryx doesn’t answer immediately, so I keep going. Because if I stop now, I’ll fall apart.