Page 301 of Elemental Becoming

I nod. “Tell me the words.”

Thane reaches for my hand, taking the ring from my palm. Without a word, he lifts my right hand and carefully slides the ring onto my finger. The fit is perfect, like it was always meant to rest there.

The moment it settles against my skin, the magics stirs. Warmth spreads from the ring in slow waves, winding through me with quiet purpose. The onyx catches the light, revealing a faint glimmer hidden within its depths. Ancient power hums beneath the surface, as though it has been waiting generations for this moment.

Thane’s fingers still briefly before he lifts his head. Then hedraws a breath and begins.

“Your smiles, your tears, your future, your past,

I promise myself to you, forever steadfast.

This ring, a symbol, a bond that will last,

Guiding us back, no matter how vast.”

The words settle in the air like an invocation. The ring hums with renewed life, the ancient magics within it awakening in answer to the vow.

I look back at him and repeat the words, each one spoken with quiet conviction.

The moment I speak the final word, the ring pulses—a single, powerful vibration against my skin. A rush of warmth spreads through me. The sensation doesn’t burn. Deep within me, something clicks into place, threading through me like a beacon in the dark.

Thane’s hand tightens around mine. When I lift my eyes to his, I see he feels it, too.

The vow is sealed.

No matter what comes, no matter how far, he will find me and I will find him. We will always be able to find our way back to one another.

IT ALL MATTERS

FORTY-TWO

Home can have many forms. Sometimes it’s a place marked on a map. A cottage tucked beneath ancient pines, or a bustling city of lantern-lit streets. Sometimes it’s a memory carried across oceans and mountains, a feeling that lingers long after the road has stretched beyond the horizon. But I have learned that home can be far simpler than stone walls or familiar skies. Sometimes it is the one you love.

—VALEN’S JOURNAL

AMARA

As we head toward Valen’s rooms, the stone corridors of the castle stretch before us, the air cool despite the afternoon sun spilling through the tall windows. Thane walks beside me. The weight of the ring on my finger is still new, a different kind of awareness. Not just the metal, but the quiet hum of magics beneath it.

We move in comfortable silence, the sound of our boots against the stone. I steal a glance up at him, taking in the sharp lines of his profile, the ever-present focus in his expression, even when he isn’t looking at me.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me to Valen’s,” I say. “I know where his quarters are now. I’ve been there several times.”

Thane shrugs. “I know. I want to.”

He glances down at me.

“I’ll take any excuse to be near you. Even if it means being reduced to your personal bodyguard. A tragic fall from power, really.”

I scoff, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

“Yes, truly tragic. Should I start calling you Lord Escort?”

His eyes twinkle. “At least give me something with a bit more dignity. ‘Warlord of Escort to the Spiritborn’ has a certain ring to it.”

Laughing, I lean into his arm. My free hand wraps around his bicep, fingers curling against the solid muscle beneath his tunic.

Gods, this man is perfection.