Chapter 15 #2
I twist inside his guard, blade flashing upward—but he’s already there. He meets my strike, our hilts locking, our faces inches apart. His breath is steady, controlled, while mine is uneven, ragged.
He is testing me. And I refuse to break.
The world narrows—to steel clashing, breath catching, the raw instinct that keeps us moving. Countering. Surviving.
I shift, barely deflecting his next attack, and he takes advantage of the opening, stepping into my space.
A heartbeat. A breath. That’s all it takes.
He moves too fast to counter. In a single, fluid motion, he slams the flat of his blade against my wrist, disarming me. My sword clatters to the ground. He doesn’t finish the fight. Instead, he waits, his blade hovering just above my chest, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
Daring me to yield.
But I refuse to let this end the way it always does.
I shift my stance, drawing in a sharp breath as I summon my magics. The air around us thickens, charged with raw energy. Thane’s eyes flicker with recognition—he lunges, blade poised to strike.
I unleash a burst of air, sharp and blistering, slamming into his chest with unrelenting force. The force punches him back—his footing falters for the first time.
Then—he falls.
Thane hits the ground hard, dust billowing up around him as he lands on his back. A grunt escapes him.
For the first time ever, I’ve knocked him down.
The silence that follows crackles with energy. My chest heaves, adrenaline thrumming hot in my veins.
I expect fury. For him to rise, come at me harder, blade swinging.
But instead, he laughs. Low, rough, and undeniably amused.
The sound sends a fresh wave of heat through me. My fingers still tingle from the magics that hurled him down. His damn smirk only pisses me off more.
I should feel victorious. Should enjoy the moment.
But all I can see is the way he looks at me—amused, entertained, like this is just a game.
My brow furrows. I can still see Lady Evelyne’s figure lingering at his door the other night, the way she disappeared inside.
I was a fool.
The thought burns through me.
“Get up.” The words bite out—sharp and bitter.
Thane chuckles, rising with infuriating ease—brushing dust from his pants like I hadn’t just knocked him flat.
“That eager to go again?”
A crackle of lightning splits the air overhead.
Thane’s chuckle dies as he looks up—clouds that weren’t there moments ago now swirl ominously, darkening the previously bright sky. His expression shifts, eyes narrowing as he whips his head back to me.
His voice drops lower, steadier. “Amara, are you okay? What’s going on?”
Concern sharpens his tone—unexpected, almost disarming.
But I don’t answer—not at first. I hold his stare, my fists clenched at my sides, pulse pounding in my ears.
Thane stares at me now, waiting, expecting an answer. And that’s when I snap.
“Did you have fun with Lady Evelyne?” The words rip free, sharp as a blade. “You didn’t even have the decency to look at me these past two days.”
Thane bristles, his entire body going still. His expression shifts from confusion to something harder, something edged. “What?”
I scoff, heat flaring through my chest—bitter and burning. “I saw her go into your room.”
He blinks, trying to make sense of my words, then his brows draw together. “What are you talking about?”
He just stares for a second. Then his jaw tightens, eyes darkening—not with anger, but exasperation. “I went back to have drinks with the others, Amara.”
Silence crashes between us—thick and suffocating.
I stand frozen, heart hammering, trying to reconcile that I might’ve been wrong this entire time.
My throat tightens. The heat I’ve carried for days dims, replaced by a cold knot of uncertainty.
I hesitate, my voice unsteady. “After you walked me to the barracks, I came looking for you—I saw Lady Evelyne go into your quarters.”
Thane drags his hand down his face. “Gods,” he mutters. “She’s done this before.”
I blink, my breath stuttering. “Wait—what?”
He exhales—annoyance creeping into his voice. “A year ago, a guard found her wandering outside my quarters at the capital.” He shakes his head, glancing away before meeting my eyes again. “I need to start locking and warding the godsdamn door.”
Thane steps toward me—close. Too close.
I start to step back, but his hand catches my arm. Firm, but not rough. His touch anchors me—but it also stokes the shame now burning beneath my skin.
Because I’m the one who lost control.
Thane exhales slowly, like he’s holding something back. Frustration threads through every word.
“Why do you think I asked you to sit beside me? Stayed close to you the entire time?” His gaze sharpens, his tone edged with impatience. “I was trying to make it clear to Evelyne I wasn’t interested as politely as possible. I’m not even interested in Evelyn, Amara, I’m—”
He pauses, pressing his lips together, as if considering to say more. His hand still grips my arm, but it’s nothing compared to his stare—intense, inescapable, pinning me where I stand.
His jaw ticks, then he says, “After I walked you to the barracks, I went back to the dining hall. I was there for hours—with my brothers and Elaris.”
Thane’s eyes burn into mine. And just like that, the fury I’ve carried for two days . . . evaporates. The sky, once dark and restless, is now cloudless again, the sun streaming down on us, as if the world itself has shifted with the weight of the truth.
He studies me for a moment, brow furrowing. “You came looking for me?” he asks softly.
His grip remains steady, rooting me in place. I open my mouth, but the words catch in my throat.
Finally, I manage, “Yes.” But it’s barely a whisper.
Thane’s gaze doesn’t waver. He doesn’t let go of me. His voice is even quieter when he asks, “Why?”
My lips part but no words come. Because if I say it—if I admit it—then I have to face what it means.
I went looking for him because I needed to see him. And the thought of him with someone else twisted something deep inside me.
Maybe it’s not just him I’m afraid to tell, maybe I’m afraid to admit it to myself.
If I say why I really came looking for him, I’ll have to face what I actually feel.
And now, doubt slithers in, sinking its claws deep. I had been so certain. Certain of what I saw—of what I felt.
What if I wasn’t just wrong about Evelyne? What if I was wrong about everything?
What if what I thought I felt on our walk after dinner—the way his eyes lingered, the warmth between us—wasn’t real? What if I had let myself believe in something that was never really there?
Because, after all, I am the Spiritborn. He is duty-bound to me.
I look at him. The strong line of his jaw, stubble catching the late-afternoon light.
The curve of his mouth—held in that same careful restraint, like he’s always one breath from saying something he shouldn’t. His dark, tousled hair falls across his brow, damp from sparring, framing a face shaped by discipline and fire—and something softer he tries to bury.
And his eyes . . . smoke-gray, laced with gold. Like the first crack of sunlight through a thundercloud.
They don’t just look at me—they search. Like he’s trying to read something I haven’t said. Waiting for something I don’t know how to give.
They hold me there, suspended.
I force the words out, swallowing the lump in my throat. “No reason,” I say, voice flat. “It was nothing.”
Thane studies me, his gaze flicking between my eyes—like he’s trying to pull the truth from my silence. Then, finally, he exhales and releases my arm.
The warmth of his touch vanishes as quickly as it came.
He doesn’t press or push further.
He just lets it go.
The moment settles over me, heavy and suffocating. The fire, the rage, the storm I had built inside myself over the past two days—it all crumbles into something smaller, something pathetic.
I feel stupid. Like I invented it all in my head.
Shame settles heavy beneath my ribs. I swallow it. Lock it away. Add it to everything else I’m too afraid to face.
And just like that, the moment shatters—broken by the sound of boots pounding hard across the dirt. I barely register the sound before Captain Elaris appears, every movement tight with urgency.
“My lord,” he says, voice clipped. “We have a situation. A scouting party from the western patrol has gone missing. Their last report placed them near the borderlands, but they never returned, nor have we received any further word.”
Thane shifts in an instant. The Warlord replaces the man who stood before me, his expression hardening as he straightens.
“How long?”
“At least a full night. One of the scouts circled back at dawn when the others didn’t return. There were signs of a struggle.”
My confusion, my shame—they crash under the weight of Elaris’s words. A moment ago, I was drowning in self-doubt. In confusion. In whatever this thing between Thane and me was becoming.
But none of that matters now because something bigger is at stake.
Thane’s jaw tightens, his entire focus shifting away from me. “We leave in twenty minutes on dragonback. Tell Garrick, Jarek, and Rian.”
Elaris nods and turns on his heel—already in motion.
I watch him go, but my thoughts stay with the man still standing in front of me. Thane looks back—just once, unreadable—then turns and follows.
Later that evening, I’m at the pub with Lyra, Darius, Fenric, and Taila—gathered around a worn wooden table, ales in hand.
Firelight flickers across the stone walls. The air is thick with roasted meat and spiced cider. Laughter and quiet chatter swirl around me, but I feel distant—like I’m watching everything from behind a thick pane of glass.
I poke at the food on my plate. No appetite. Just the day replaying on a loop in my head.
Lyra nudges my arm, arching a brow. “Okay, what’s with the mopey face?”
Taila smirks, shooting Lyra a knowing glance before turning to me. “Let me guess. Thane.”
I make a face. She only smirks harder. She’s not letting it go.