Page 397 of Elemental Becoming

I stare at her, then give her a light shove with my good arm.

“Gods, Lyra. The poor guy!”

“I panicked!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in mock defense. “He said it after a sparring match and I thought he’d hit his head. Turns out, he meant it. Kept saying it. I think he was hoping that if he said it enough times, I’d eventually stop pretending I didn’t hear him.”

I snort. “Classic Garrick.”

She smiles, a little more subdued this time. “Classic me, too. Always scared to say what I feel first.”

I reach for her hand and squeeze it.

“You got there,” I say softly. “That’s what matters.”

She squeezes back. “Yeah. I did.”

As she beams at me, absolutely radiant, I realize how much I’ve missed this. Not just the laughter. Not just the girl talk. The kind of connection that anchors you and reminds you who you are beneath the armor, the prophecy, and the blood.

Before Lyra can say more, the door creaks open just enough for Thane’s head to appear through the gap.

“Are you two done talking about Garrick?” he asks, deadpan.

Lyra immediately bursts into laughter. “Come on, Warlord. Don’t act like you weren’t listening the whole time.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “I wasn’t. I was strategically retreating.”

I roll my eyes, unable to stop my grin. “Yes, we’re done.”

Thane steps fully into the room, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “Good. Because now it’s my turn.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “To talk about Garrick?”

The corner of his mouth lifts. “To stretch your arm. Healer Marion said she’d give me a proper whooping if I didn’t make sure you moved it every day.”

He crosses to the side of the bed with the easy authority he always carries, though there’s warmth in it now. A gentlenessI’m still getting used to.

“She’s not joking,” he adds, reaching for the sling. “She threatened to use her cane. She might be the only person in this castle who gets away with threatening the Warlord. She used to be the same way with my father.”

Lyra leans back in her chair, absolutely delighted. “Gods, I love Healer Marion!”

“Honestly, I’m afraid of her,” Thane mutters, unstrapping the sling with practiced care. “Have been since I was a boy.”

I wince as he begins guiding my arm upward, careful and patient.

“She also said I’m not supposed to laugh so much,” I grit out through my teeth.

Thane looks pointedly at Lyra. “Then you better stop making jokes.”

Lyra snorts. “Not likely.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes while Thane moves my arm, unfolding it, then folding it back again. His touch is careful and sure. Every motion measured, just as Healer Marion demonstrated.

So different from the way I’ve seen him move on the battlefield. Fierce. Unrelenting. Forged in fire and precision. But here, with me, he’s all tenderness.

And gods, it makes my chest feel too full.

After a while, he exhales softly.

“All right,” he says, his tone leaving little room for argument. “Time to stand up. Move your whole body.”