Page 91 of Elemental Becoming

“Just fucking die,” she mutters, pulling the pillow over her head.

I laugh, shaking my head as I pull the door closed behind me, then head downstairs.

The castle is already alive with movement.

Members of the court linger in the dining hall, speaking in hushed tones over tea and morning bread, their clothes finer than usual, as if preparing for the night ahead. A noblewoman idly twirls a jeweled bracelet around her wrist, while another thumbs through a parchment, too distracted to eat.

Beyond the dining hall, the corridors are a flurry of activity. Staff bustle through the halls, arms laden with swaths of deep crimson and gold for the evening’s decorations. A pair of servants carry a towering arrangement of night-blooming lilies and golden laurels toward the great hall, their fragrance thick in the air. From the kitchens comes the rich smell of roasted meats and spiced honey, the clatter of pots and knives rising and falling beneath it.

Excitement simmers underneath it all.

The ball will be grand. A night of celebration, yes—but also politics and power.

The thought of it turns my stomach.

Flying with Calryx will help me shake off those nerves.

I swipe a warm pastry from the table—flaky, buttery, filled with something sweet—and take a bite as I weave through the commotion, slipping past a steward barking orders about the placement of banners.

Outside, the morning air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and the distant crackle of forge-fire from the training grounds.

Before bed, I updated Calryx on everything—the revelation about Thane’s father, the Unmaking, the way the Shadow Element seemed to move on its own when Thane lost control of his emotions.

Even thinking about it now makes unease crawl beneath my skin.

I desperately need a respite from all of it.

Just for a little while.

After a long walk, the dragon field opens before me. The ground is carved with deep grooves from massive claws, the grass flattened where they’ve rested.

Dragons shift and stretch, their scales glinting in the early light as they rumble low greetings to one another. Some perch along the hillside, wings half-spread to catch the sun.

Riders move between them, checking straps, adjusting gear, speaking in quiet tones as they prepare for flight.

At the edge of it all stands Calryx.

She stands in the morning light, still and radiant.

Breathtaking.

Her scales are a radiant silvery-white and shimmer with an opalescent sheen, catching the sun and scattering soft hues of blue, green, and pink across her sleek frame. The effect is almost hypnotic, like light rippling across water, shifting with every movement.

Her head creates both elegance and power. It is all smooth, flowing lines that enhance her regal presence. A pair of delicately curved horns rise from her temples, pearlescent and branching like a stag’s antlers, lending her an otherworldly grace. Her talons are finely tapered and sharp like well-honed daggers.

Then there are her eyes.

Emerald green.

Luminous and piercing. Like cut gemstones set into the faceof something ancient and knowing. They find mine with quiet amusement, as if she can already tell what I’m thinking.

“Are you going to keep staring, or are we flying?”

I huff a laugh, stepping forward.“Flying.”

Calryx lowers her head, offering her foreleg as a ramp.

I climb up, my fingers brushing over the smooth, cool armor of her scales as I settle onto her neck, into the saddle. The moment I find my seat, I feel the familiar pull of magics settle in—the enchanted straps tightening around my thighs and torso, secure without constricting, while the shield over my eyes hums faintly to life.