Page 269 of Elemental Becoming

The soil is dark and freshly turned, lined with straw to hold the warmth a little longer. A few hardy herbs cling to life at the edges, their leaves curled but stubborn. Fallen leaves gather in the corners, caught against the wooden frames like quiet offerings.

Nothing blooms. But it isn’t dead. It’s waiting.

For her.

“Valen said something once,” I murmur, eyes still on the garden beds. “About you. About grounding yourself in dirt. Though I’m sure he said it in some long-winded, poetic way that only Valen can.”

I glance at her. Her eyes are already shining.

“So I had this made. To help you—”

She doesn’t let me finish.

She steps into me and kisses me. Hard. Hands in my hair. Mouth against mine. Her whole body pressed close, like she’s trying to tell me a hundred things she doesn’t have words for.

She parts my lips with hers, and I let it all go.

All the restraint.

All the worry.

Everything I am.

DEEP THOUGHTS

THIRTY-SEVEN

Touch, smell, taste, sight, hearing, and intuition are the bridges that bind us to each other, to the world, and to our history, to those who came before us. By enhancing our senses and learning to trust them, we deepen our connection to the currents of magics that flowthrough us.

—VALEN’S JOURNAL

AMARA

Despite the approach of autumn, the heat is oppressive the next day.

The afternoon sun beats down on the training grounds, turning the packed earth beneath my feet dry and cracked. The scent of sun-warmed stone and scorched dustlingers in the air, mingling with the distant smoke from the forge. The end of summer clings stubbornly, the days still hot, the evenings only just beginning to cool. Sweat slicks my skin, my sleeveless tunic sticking to my back, the lighter training pants I wear offering little relief from the heat.

Across from me, Thane moves like a shadow, circling. Predatory. Patient.

His tunic clings to him, damp with sweat, the dark fabric emphasizing the lean strength of his torso. His fire-wielding tattoo coils along his right arm, the inked lines appearing almost alive beneath the blazing sun, shifting subtly as if his magics hum beneath the surface. His storm-gray eyes track every movement I make.

Not as a lover. As a teacher. As a warrior.

I tilt my head from side to side, stretching my neck and loosening the tension gathering there. The elements are all present beneath my skin.

Fire.

Water.

Air.

Earth.

Four distinct currents moving through me at once. The challenge is no longer controlling them. It’s staying balanced enough to move with all four.

The protective enchantments already shimmer around the training grounds, set in place by Valen before we began. Now he watches from the edge of the field, arms folded, his ever-calculating gaze following every movement.

“Good,” he says. “Feel how the elements feed into one another. Don’t fight them. Guide them. And temper what you draw from Calryx. You don’t want to take more than you can comfortably hold.”