Page 77 of Elemental Becoming

A pause.

“For all his strength, even my father relied on her more than he’d ever admit.”

“Hey,” Lyra cuts in, tilting her head, “why is she wearing two rings on the same finger? Is that a Fire Clan thing?”

I look closer.

On one hand, a simple gold band. On the other, a darker ring set with onyx.

Rowena smiles faintly. “No, that’s just a special ring my father gave my mother.”

“Like an engagement ring?” Lyra offers.

Rowena shakes her head. “No. That’s this one.” She gestures toward the painting.

I follow her hand and spot the other ring.

My attention shifts.

Kastiel.

Thane looks no older than thirteen in this painting. That would make Rowena sixteen, and Kastiel nineteen.

Five years before he died.

Their father stands tall, broad-shouldered, exuding the quiet authority of a ruler who has spent a lifetime leading. His sandy hair and hazel-gold eyes look familiar, but different from the man I met earlier today.

Here, he is whole.

Composed. Commanding. A man who has carried power for a long time and knows how to wield it.

The Warlord.

I think of Thane feeding him this morning, and the contrasthits harder than I expect.

I can see both parents in the three of them. Rowena and Thane carry their mother’s dark hair and smoke-gray eyes. Kastiel has their father’s coloring. But it’s more than that—their features blend, strong jawlines, high cheekbones, the same unmistakable presence.

What strikes me most is the pride in their expressions. The ease. The closeness. This was a family, bound not by duty alone, but by something deeper.

My chest tightens, the loss tangible. Here, they are whole. Now, two are gone. And one is slipping away.

I think of my own family. I am all that remains.

The truth lands, and there’s nowhere to put it.

Then, I feel it.

An unexpected pulse in the bond.

I braced for grief—for the hollow ache of loss—but this is different.

Softer. Comforting. A brush against my thoughts, like something reaching for me.

I still.

Is that Thane?

I hold my breath, reaching back through the bond to catch that fleeting warmth before it slips away.