Page 45 of Elemental Becoming

“I don’t think this is an accident,” I say quietly. “Thane . . . do you feel it?”

His breath is uneven. Too fast. “I don’t know what this is.”

I grab his hands, forcing his attention back to me.

“Amara, don’t touch—” he starts, trying to pull free.

“Look at me.”

I use every fiber of my strength to hold him there.

“The shadows are not hurting me.”

I swallow.

“This—” my voice softens, but doesn’t waver, “this isn’t what you think it is.”

The bond surges, sharp and undeniable, the shadows moving in time with it.

My chest tightens. Because this—this isn’t how something corrupted behaves.

I think of his mother. Not running, but reaching.

And his father—not unraveling, but holding.

The pieces lock into place.

My grip tightens around his.

“What if your father never stopped fighting?”

He stills.

Doesn’t breathe.

His eyes snap to mine, something raw flashing in them.

“No.”

The word fractures on the way out.

“That’s not—” His voice catches. He drags in a sharp breath. “That doesn’t make sense.”

But he doesn’t let go of me. Doesn’t step back. And the shadows—they hesitate. Like they’re waiting.

I don’t keep pressing because I see it in his eyes. He’s right at the edge of breaking open. The thought is already there and he can’t escape it.

Then the darkness shifts.

They recoil first, pulling away from where it had wrapped around us, where they had swallowed the world whole. The shadows peel away, dissolving like smoke. The world rushes back in—torches flickering, the city glowing below, the stars returning overhead.

But the shadows don’t vanish. They gather, reaching, coiling upward with quiet purpose.

The bond answers, sharp and certain.

Thane is breathing hard now. He releases my hands as he stares down at the darkness curling around him.

“No.” A whisper, barely a breath. “No, that’s not—”