Chapter 17 #3
I hesitate.
And the fire flickers. A violent crack splits through the air. Flames twist, erratic. The water surges higher, slapping at my ribs. The earth shifts, just a fraction, enough that my balance wavers. The wind screams in my ears, carrying embers and mist into the sky.
I suck in a breath, panic flaring hot in my chest.
I reach.
To pull the flames back into line, to settle the water, to force the earth to still, to command the air to be still.
Nothing listens. The elements resist me.
They reject me.
I stiffen. “Valen—”
“You still don’t get it.” His voice, sharp. Cutting through the storm.
The water climbs. I brace—control it, push it back, shape it—
“No!”
Valen’s voice slams through the noise in my head, stopping me cold.
“Do nothing!” he orders.
How the hell do I do nothing?
I clench my teeth. “If I don’t—”
“You will,” Valen says. “You just have to let it happen. Be still. Body. Mind. Heart. And breathe, Amara. In and out.”
Flames flicker erratically. Water churns. Earth shifts beneath my feet. Air thickens around me—pressing against my chest, like it’s holding its breath with me.
Panic stirs. I reach for control—but they don’t obey.
Because they aren’t resisting. They’re waiting for me to let go.
I inhale sharply and stop reaching.
And for the first time since my Elemental magics awakened, I do nothing.
Heat rises, unrestrained. Steam curls around me, dense and blinding. Water laps at my legs, warm and shifting. Wind rushes through me, carrying fire’s heat, water’s coolness, and earth’s steady pulse.
I let go.
And nothing happens.
Or maybe . . . everything does.
Because the flames do not consume. Water does not drown. Earth does not crumble. Wind does not throw me off balance.
They don’t need my hand to stay steady.
They already are.
A gasp escapes me, my chest loosening, my mind finally quieting.
I feel it now, the truth pressing in from every side; the Elements were never waiting for control. Only for trust.
I open my eyes. I finally understand.
Silence stretches between us, broken only by the faint crackle of embers and the whisper of wind curling through the mist. My breath comes slow, steady, the tension in my body finally gone.
Valen watches from the ledge, arms crossed. Measuring. Then, he exhales, tilting his head. “Hm.”
Just that. A sound. Quiet and knowing.
“You finally stopped fighting them.”
I glance at him, unsure if it’s meant to be a question.
It isn’t. He already knows the answer.
His eyes scan the firelight, the mist, the wind stirring my damp hair.
“They didn’t change,” he continues. “The Elements never resisted you, Amara. They only mirrored what you gave them.”
His eyes return to mine, sharp and knowing.
“You have been forcing them into obedience. And they obeyed. Now, for the first time, you let them be. And they obeyed.”
His eyes meet mine. Sharp. Gentle.
“Now you let them be. And they accepted you.”
Warmth blooms in my chest, in the space control used to live.
Then—a presence.
Soft. At the edge of my awareness.
I glance past Valen. Across the training grounds, Thane is watching. Not like Valen.
Not analyzing. Not assessing.
Just . . . seeing me.
I grin, unable to stop the way it breaks across my face.
And Thane smiles back.
After working with Valen, I need a break.
The sun warms my skin, sweat cooling on my arms as I stretch out beneath the old oak. The breeze shifts through the leaves overhead, rustling in that steady, familiar rhythm. This tree has become my place when the world feels too loud.
To breathe. To remember.
Home.
My parents.
The past few days have been brutal—blindfolded battles, free falls, Elemental surrender—but for once, I don’t mind the exhaustion. Because I feel alive. There’s a charge under my skin—an energy that hasn’t left me since the moment I heard Calryx’s call.
I close my eyes, letting it all sink in.
And then, a shadow falls across me.
“Didn’t expect to find you just sitting around.”
I crack one eye open.
Kieran.
He stands over me, arms crossed, grinning like he just caught me slacking off.
I smirk back, too wired to be annoyed.
And maybe, just maybe, I don’t mind the attention right now.
“Even I need to breathe sometimes.”
He crouches beside me, elbows on his knees, that same mischievous gleam in his eye.
“Heard something interesting,” he says low—like he’s about to reveal a scandal.
I lift a brow. “Yeah?”
He leans in. “Rumor is . . . a dragon called to you.”
At the mention of Calryx, something flares bright in my chest.
I meet his gaze. Grin widening. “Maybe.”
Kieran’s eyes flick over me, like he’s trying to read between the lines. “Didn’t peg you for the secretive type.”
I shrug. “I’m not. I just don’t think people know what to do with the idea of me with a dragon.”
He tilts his head, studying me. Like he’s figuring something out. “No,” he muses. “I think they know exactly what to do with it.”
He lets the words sit between us for a second longer. Then—
“Worship it.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Okay, now you’re just making things up.”
“Not flattery.” He grins. “Just an observation.”
His gaze drifts toward the training grounds, where Valen and Thane are deep in discussion. Then back to me—and his expression shifts. Still teasing, but more deliberate now.
“You seem different.”
I raise a brow. “Do I?”
He nods. “Brighter.”
Something about the way he says it makes my stomach flip. Not like when I was standing on the edge of the fall. Not like when Thane looks at me like I’m a storm he can’t stop circling.
This is different.
Not charged. Not dangerous.
Just . . . steady. Playful. Safe.
No walls. No power struggle. No back-and-forth.
Just ease.
“Maybe I’m just in a good mood,” I say, nudging my knee against his.
Kieran chuckles, tapping a finger against his chin. “Or maybe you’re glowing because you’re about to become something legendary.”
I snort. “You’re ridiculous.”
He leans in, voice dropping—just enough to send a tiny shiver through me.
“Am I?”
I bite back a grin, shaking my head, enjoying this way too much.
For three days, it’s been nothing but intensity, nothing but breaking down everything I thought I knew.
And right now? I just feel happy.
Kieran watches me a beat longer, then rises. “I should let you enjoy your break before Thane glares me out of existence.”
I snort—
And that’s when I feel it. The weight of his stare.
I glance past Kieran toward the training grounds—and find exactly what I expected.
Thane.
Arms crossed, still as stone. His face is calm—too calm. That Warlord stillness that only ever shows up when he’s holding something back.
But even from here, I can feel it.
The heat of him. The weight of his gaze. The quiet, simmering intensity just beneath the surface—flame, curled behind stone.
Kieran follows my gaze. His smirk grows.
“Ah.”
I turn back to him, raising an eyebrow. “Ah?”
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “You might as well paint a target on your back, Thalor.”
I blink. “What?”
Kieran gestures lazily in Thane’s direction—without even looking. “You’ve got the Warlord over there looking like he’s about to march over here and stake his claim.”
I scoff. “That’s not—”
But I don’t finish. Because Thane moves.
Not a casual stroll. Not some slow meander.
His strides cover ground like it’s a godsdamn pissing match.
My pulse kicks up.
There’s a look in his eyes—sharp, focused, possessive.
Suddenly the space between Kieran and me feels too close. Too obvious. Too charged.
Gods, he’s beautiful when he storms like this.
Kieran sees it too. Of course he does. He grins—big, unbothered, entertained.
Then he leans in. “He’s fast. I’ll give him that.”
I shoot him a glare. “Don’t start.”
Kieran chuckles, backing up just as Thane arrives. He throws me a look—smug, lazy, entirely too entertained.
“But just so you know,” he says, eyes dancing, “until it’s a done deal, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pauses, letting that sink in. Then adds, with a slow grin, “Don’t go falling off a cliff without me, Thalor.”
I roll my eyes. “No promises.” But I’m grinning.
And then he’s gone—striding off like he owns the wind, leaving me alone with Thane. And the simmering heat of . . . whatever the hell that was.
Thane doesn’t say anything at first. He watches Kieran go, then drops down beside me like he’s always belonged there.
I raise a brow. “Something you need?”
Thane sprawls out beside me—legs stretched long, arms thrown over the back of the log, fingers grazing the grass like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
Too casual.
And it makes something in me twitch.
“No.”
I snort.
Liar.
The midday sun filters through the oak branches, dappling the ground in shifting patches of gold. A breeze stirs the leaves, brushing the strands of hair that have slipped free from my braid.
The silence between us hums—thick and charged. I shift, uneasy in a way that has nothing to do with discomfort.
I lean back, mirroring him, legs stretched out, arms folded loose across my chest. My body aches from training, but my mind is still buzzing—sharp and alive.
“You sure?” I ask, eyeing him. “Because you came over here like you had a mission.”
Thane glances at me, expression infuriatingly calm. “Looked like you needed saving.”
I bark a laugh. “Saving? From what? A friendly conversation?”
He shrugs. Doesn’t answer. The space between us shifts again—simmering, charged.
I narrow my eyes slightly. “You’re in a good mood.”
He exhales, tilting his head. “Am I?”
The way he says it—too smooth, too at ease.
I study him. “You tell me.”
Another shrug. A casual roll of his shoulders.
But it’s different. Not the sharp, commanding kind I’ve seen on the sparring field. Not the coiled tension of a warrior gauging a threat.
This is something quieter. More deliberate.
And then it clicks.
The way he just happened to sit next to me.
The way he let Kieran walk off without a word.
The way his fingers rest behind me on the log—close, but not quite touching.