Page 394 of Elemental Becoming

Because when the bond is open, when we let it guide us, it becomes more than instinct. It’s a current pulling us forward. A rhythm only we can hear.

And maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s why the prophecies speak of two. Because together, we become something greater than either of us could be alone.

This man I love, so aware and so attuned, didn’t just talk strategy or praise what I’d done. He checked on me.

He asked how I was feeling after my first true battle. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. He wanted to be sure I was okay. That the weight of the bloodshed, the carnage, the screams, hadn’t carved too deep. That I wasn’t losing myself to it.

That I was still me.

Because Thane knows what war can take. What it erodes if you’re not careful. And gods . . . the way he looked at me then, not like I was fragile, but like I was worth protecting, broke something open in me and stitched something else back together.

He didn’t use to be like this. Not when we first met. Back then, he was guarded. Stoic. Always holding something back, as if letting anyone too close might break him. As if closeness itself was a kind of weakness.

But I know now that he was protecting everyone around himfrom the curse.

Now there’s softness behind the steel. A depth to his strength that has nothing to do with fire and everything to do with choice. He chooses to care. To show it. To stay.

And I’ve changed too.

I’m not the same girl who stood on a training field trembling under his gaze, unsure if I was meant to wield anything at all. I’ve bled and fought and burned. I’ve fallen, and I’ve gotten back up. Over and over again.

And now, when he looks at me, it isn’t just with hope. It’s with the certainty of belief. More importantly, when I look at myself, I see someone worth believing in too.

I see it now, even in the smallest moments.

This morning, I woke before dawn, the room still draped in darkness, and found Thane at the desk in the corner, reviewing reports by lantern light. Not in the war room. Not in his study. Here. Because he doesn’t want to be too far from me for long.

When I stirred, he looked up. The faintest smile touched his mouth. He set down his quill, crossed the room, and pressed a kiss to my forehead before returning to his desk.

No words. Just that gesture.

Thane gave me an update while I was recovering, his voice gentle, as though he didn’t want to burden me with too much. But I asked. I needed to know.

The battle left Greythorne Keep badly damaged. Thane said Lord Hale has already begun organizing the rebuilding effort. He’s staying behind to oversee it himself, coordinating crews, gathering supplies, and taking charge like a man trying to reclaim control of something he failed to protect.

Lady Evelyne, on the other hand, is headed to the capital. She left almost immediately after the battle. Lord Toren’s sister said she needed to represent her house at court and ensure the council provided the necessary support for the rebuildingefforts.

Maybe that’s true. Or maybe staying, facing the aftermath, the ruin, the loss, was simply too much. I don’t blame her. The losses were heavy.

Thane didn’t list the names. I think he knew I couldn’t bear it yet. But I saw the grief in his eyes. He carries it like armor, worn smooth by years of use and impossible to set aside.

Because I’ve been ordered to bed rest this past week, I’ve had a constant stream of visitors. My friends. Various healers. And Valen.

I don’t think Thane’s quarters have ever seen this much company before. What used to be a disciplined space of dark wood, neatly rolled maps, and the lingering scent of smoke and steel now feels warmer. Lived in.

Sera and Rowena stop by nearly every morning to check on me, but they never come empty-handed. There’s always a sweet pastry, fresh fruit, or a steaming cup of something that smells vaguely medicinal and a bit like tree bark.

Lyra brings gossip. And sass. And a kind of joy I didn’t realize I’d been missing, at least not until it was sitting cross-legged at the edge of my bed, grinning like no time had passed and teasing me as though we were back in the village instead of in the middle of preparing for war.

She gave me updates on everyone at the outpost. Nessa, Fenric, Darius, and Taila are still deep in training, but Garrick, as Thane’s second-in-command, is already making plans to reassign them soon.

I plan to write them while I’m stuck on bed rest. I’ve allowed the war to take over my life. Like Valen said, balance. Hopefully, I’ll be well enough to visit before long. After all, they’re only a dragon ride away.

Garrick and Jarek pop in just to wreak havoc. They rearrange Thane’s scrolls, raid the fruit tray, and pretend to inspectmy bandages while loudly declaring me “unfit for duty” and “possibly cursed with boredom.”

Thane always kicks them out after thirty minutes.

Rian is quieter than the others. He doesn’t say much, but he stays the longest. Sometimes he reads by the hearth, the soft rustle of pages filling the room. Sometimes he simply sits nearby, his presence grounding in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.