Page 68 of Elemental Becoming

The answer doesn’t come all at once. It builds in pieces.

The way he always pulled me to my feet after a gruelingtraining session, never letting me stay down longer than necessary. The night he caught me when I’d had too much to drink, irritation clear, but never once letting me fall. The long hours he sat beside my bed while I healed.

Or does it go back even further—to the very beginning?

To the night of the attack on my village, when my Elemental magics broke free and the world blurred at the edges. When I was blacking out, my body betraying me, my magic raging out of my control—and he was the one who caught me.

Maybe it started there.

Or was it something quieter?

The way he sought me out when I first arrived at the outpost, his presence grounding me even before I knew I needed it. The way his voice changed when it was just us.

Or maybe it was the first time I reached for him without thinking, knowing he would be there.

And he always is.

We reach the bottom of the stairs and turn left. Thane doesn’t let go of my hand as he leads us deeper into the castle, through corridors that stretch farther than I expect.

We’ve been walking for fifteen minutes.

And we’re not even close.

My entire village could fit within this space alone. The scale of it presses in, impossible to ignore.

The halls rise high around us, lined with stone pillars etched in flame, their edges catching the light from the sconces mounted along the walls. Crimson banners hang between them, the Fire Clan’s sigil repeated again and again: wings spread, rising from flame.

Everything is maintained. From the carved wooden doors we pass to the iron chandeliers above, candlelight casting long shadows across the vaulted ceilings.

Staff move through the halls with purpose, their steps quietagainst the stone. Some carry trays of food, others fresh linens or stacks of documents. The place never stills.

Despite the scale, nothing feels excessive. Everything has a use.

Like its ruler.

I glance at Thane, at the ease with which he moves through these halls; he is confident and assured, as if the stronghold is simply an extension of himself.

He belongs here. But do I?

Thane glances down at me, his smoke-gray eyes sharpening. “What’s wrong?”

Of course.

The bond.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the damn thing.

There’s no hiding anything from him. Not the quiet awe tightening in my chest. Not the weight of realizing just how small my world was before this. Not the way my fingers unconsciously curled tighter around his.

I force a small smile. “Nothing.”

He doesn’t look convinced. His gaze lingers, searching. I feel it through the bond—his attention pressing at the edges of mine, waiting. I turn my attention forward, pretending I don’t notice. Pretending I have control over what I let him feel.

We round a corner, passing a row of arched windows that open to a courtyard far below. Even from here, I can make out the outline of training grounds, the flare of magics, the clash of steel carried faintly upward.

And still, we walk.

How did I ever think this was just a castle? It’s a fortress. A city of its own. A place built for war just as much as it was for rule.