Page 345 of Elemental Becoming

I set down my cup, doing my best to keep my tone light.

“Your family crest,” I say, glancing at him. “I didn’t know you had one.”

Thane stays silent, but his focus sharpens beside me. I feel it like the shift in wind before a storm.

Kieran follows my gaze to the blade, then back to me. One brow lifts. “Really?”

“You’re not noble, are you?” I ask.

“Are you serious?” Jarek cuts in. “No way this guy is noble.” He jabs his thumb in Kieran’s direction, laughing.

“You got me.” Kieran looks at Jarek, unruffled. He turns back to face me. “My family comes from one of the founding Air Clan bloodlines. We go way back.”

He slices a hand through the air dramatically.

“Most of my family are historians and still work in the archives.”

“So why did you join the service?” Lyra asks. “Why not join the family business?”

Kieran looks at her disbelievingly. “I belong in the wind on a dragon, not underground amongst books, of course.”

“Says the man without a dragon,” Garrick mocks.

“All in good time, my friend,” Kieran replies with confidence.

“I didn’t know your family went that far back,” Rian says. “That’s an incredible history. Descending from one of the founding Air Clan bloodlines isn’t exactly something you hear every day.”

The bond between Thane and me is taut with bated breath as we listen. No one else at this table understands the possible significance of this connection.

I sip the tea, studying Kieran.

“The book and quill—that’s very Air Clan.” I pause, keeping my tone casual. “But the flame?” My smile tilts. “That’s not as common, is it?”

“Old history. My ancestors were scholars, but they had ties to fire. Alliances, maybe. It’s nothing dramatic.”

He waves it away like a story he’s told a hundred times. Like it doesn’t matter.

I nod as though the answer satisfies me. But beside me, Thane has gone very still.

Kieran has no idea.

Breakfast winds down. Plates scraped clean. Mugs drained. Around us, riders stretch and start to rise, shifting back toward routine.

Lyra throws her head back dramatically. “Ugh. Back to training.”

Garrick pushes his chair back with a grunt. “And because you’re so lovely, you get to complain to the general.”

“Oh? You’re the general now?”

Garrick shoots Lyra a sideways look but doesn’t dignify the comment with an answer.

Jarek and Rian are already on their feet, slinging their gearover their shoulders.

“Come on,” Jarek says. “Drills won’t run themselves.”

Lyra groans but follows, stretching her arms overhead. “If I die, someone avenge me. Dramatically.”

Thane pushes back from the table, his presence settling through the bond like weight against my ribs. His gaze lands on mine, attentive as ever.