Chapter 17 #4
I tap my fingers against my knee, keeping my tone light. “You showed up fast after Kieran arrived.”
I catch it—the flicker in his gaze. The subtle tension in his jaw. Gone in an instant.
He exhales slowly, watching the branches sway overhead.
“You always this observant?”
I smirk. “You always this obvious?”
His eyes flick to mine—sharp. But there’s something else there too.
Heat. Amusement. A quiet challenge.
I shift slightly, edging a little closer. Testing.
He doesn’t move. Just sits there, perfectly still. At ease. Watching me with that maddening, patient calm. Like he’s waiting for something.
And I hate that it’s working.
I lean back, one brow raised. “You think messing with me is fun?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “You make it easy.”
My stomach flips.
Not because of the words. Because of him. Because I know this side of Thane. The one who commands without raising his voice. Who fights like fire made flesh. Who was born to win.
Even if what he’s trying to win . . . is me.
But this? This is new.
He isn’t holding back anymore.
And just like that, my pulse stirs—like I’ve wandered too close to the edge of something I didn’t realize I was approaching . . . until it was already beneath my feet.
I scoff, shaking my head. “I know what I saw.”
Thane exhales through his nose—holding back a smirk.
I stretch out my arms, letting my fingers brush against the soft grass.
“If I didn’t know any better,” I murmur, “I’d think you were trying to make a point.”
His breath leaves him slow, measured. “You think too much.”
I catch it—a flick of his gaze. A twitch in his jaw.
I should leave it at that. I should.
But I don’t. Because that’s not my style.
I tilt my head, voice dipping just enough to cut through the space between us. “Thane, are you . . . jealous?”
Sunlight catches in his hair, casting shadows along the sharp line of his jaw. His smoke-gray eyes lock on mine—still unreadable, still impossibly controlled—but beneath it, something is burning.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t deflect or smirk. Just has that steady, locked-in gaze, like a predator circling its prey.
And then—low, calm, utterly unbothered: “So what if I am?”
Heat travels up my neck. Turns into something I can’t name, but feel. Everywhere.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
Thane watches me for a beat longer, then exhales, stretching his arms behind him again. Relaxed. Too relaxed.
Like he’s just set something in motion—and has no intention of stopping it.
Then—he rises. Unhurried. Deliberate.
I don’t move. I can’t.
He glances down at me, his voice smooth, hinting. “You’ll figure it out.”
And walks away.
Like he hasn’t just rewritten the rules for everything.
I’m still sitting there. Still staring at the space where he was. Trying to process what the hell just happened.
Because that wasn’t the Thane I’ve come to know.
Not the sharp-edged warlord who’s spent just as much time pushing me too hard as he has keeping his distance.
This?
This is different. Steady. Certain. Like he’s finally stopped fighting—whatever it was he was fighting.
And that realization makes my pulse kick up. Makes me feel like I’m suddenly standing at the edge of something I wasn’t prepared to jump into.
As if I don’t already have enough to jump into.
Preparing for the Trust Fall.
The bond.
And now—Thane.
I exhale slow, fingers dragging through my hair as Lyra steps into view. My thoughts are a mess.
What the hell just happened?
“Okay, I need you to explain something to me.”
I blink.
Lyra drops down beside me, legs crossed, eyes bright with barely contained delight. She leans back against the log like she owns the whole damn meadow.
Her gaze flicks toward where Thane disappeared, then back to me, a wicked glint in those green eyes.
“Because from where I was standing, it kinda looked like you’ve got two guys into you.”
I scoff, too stunned to even pretend I wasn’t just sitting here in shock.
“That’s not—”
Lyra holds up a hand, cutting me off. “No, no, let’s just break this down real quick.”
She ticks points off on her fingers.
“One: Kieran was over here, flirting his ass off, and you were enjoying it—by the way, he’s hot like everyone from Air Clan.”
I frown. “I wasn’t—”
Lyra gives me a look.
I sigh. “Fine. Maybe a little.”
She holds up two fingers. “Thane was already on his way over before Kieran even left.”
I open my mouth. Then close it.
Because . . . yeah. That’s true.
“Three: Thane sat down like he owned this log, and then—correct me if I’m wrong—he openly admitted he was jealous?”
I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “You heard that?! It wasn’t—he didn’t—it wasn’t like that.”
Lyra snorts. “Yeah, I was kind of eavesdropping—so if I ask what exactly he said, are you going to tell me it didn’t mean anything?”
I hesitate.
Because the words so what if I am? are still echoing in my head.
Lyra gasps and shoves my shoulder. “Oh my gods, you’re blushing!”
“I’m not blushing.”
“You are.”
“I’m overheated from training.”
She throws her head back laughing, then leans in with a wicked grin.
“Oh, this is going to be fun. I can’t wait to see how this plays out. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, will Amara choose Kieran? Thane? Both? We will have to watch to see how this unfolds.’”
I groan, louder this time. “There is nothing to unfold.”
Lyra smirks, propping her chin in her hand, elbow leaning on the log. “Mara . . . please. You do realize Thane looks at you like he already knows how this ends, right?”
My heart kicks up.
I shake my head. “No, he—”
She lifts an eyebrow. Waiting.
Daring me to lie.
When I don’t answer, she sighs—loud, dramatic, like she’s been holding this in for months.
“It’s about damn time! That man has been brooding over you for weeks, and I was getting sexually frustrated watching him not make a move.”
I choke. “Ly—”
“I mean, honestly. The way he’s been looking at you? The tension? The sheer effort it must’ve taken not to pin you during training? I was suffering.”
I drop my head into my hands. “Please stop talking.”
She pats my knee with faux sympathy, grinning like the chaos goblin she is.
“Oh no, this is way too much fun. Thane finally decides to do something about it, and you’re sitting here acting like you didn’t see this coming?”
I lift my head just enough to glare at her. She just grins wider.
THANE
The last three days have been brutal. For her. For me.
Valen calls it preparation. Controlled surrender. Learning to leap.
But what I see is Amara pushed to her edge again and again—blindfolded, unarmed, stripped of every safeguard she’s ever known.
And still she rises. Still she breathes through it. Still she looks up, daring the world to throw more at her. She doesn’t complain. Not once. She breaks, yes—but only long enough to rebuild stronger.
It’s maddening, that relentless fire in her.
She’s not ready. She is ready. She’s terrified. She’s already soaring. She is everything at once—and I can’t look away from her.
Especially not under that oak tree.
The place I’ve seen her go again and again over the months.
Sometimes she sits on the bench. Sometimes on the ground, back against the fallen log beneath the tree—a trunk split and toppled years ago, left undisturbed.
It’s hers now. She’s claimed it without ever saying a word.
Often she’s alone, knees pulled to her chest, staring out at the lake with that pensive look that’s become so familiar. Other times, she’s surrounded by her friends, laughing, loud, alive.
And once—just once—I sat there with her. She took my hand.
And I let her.
I remember the warmth of her fingers wrapped around mine, the quiet between us not needing to be filled. No armor. No Warlord and Spiritborn.
Just her. Just me.
And now?
I catch sight of her again from the edge of the training field. But she isn’t alone.
Kieran.
He’s crouched beside her like he belongs there. And she’s laughing—full and unguarded—at something he’s said. That same log at her back. That same breeze catching in her hair.
And all I can think is: it should be me.
There’s tension in my shoulders before I even register it. My hands curl at my sides. Heat coils in my chest—sharp and immediate, like a blade pulled too fast from the forge.
Kieran’s not just talking to her. He’s watching her like he sees something he wants. And gods help me—she’s letting him.
I take a step forward before I mean to. Valen says something behind me, but I don’t hear it.
Kieran’s leaning in again, too close.
I can feel it. That buzz beneath my skin. That familiar, unwelcome fire.
Amara shifts, playful, a soft smile on her lips. It does something to me—twists low in my gut, sharp and hot.
I start toward them. Not walking. Striding. Because I need to be near her. I need to feel the space between us again before it slips further.
By the time I reach them, Kieran’s backing off—smirking, amused, as always. He says something about cliffs and she rolls her eyes.
But I see it.
The blush on her cheeks. The glow in her eyes.
I sit beside her like it’s nothing. Like I didn’t just cut across the field because I couldn’t take another second watching him near her.
She challenges me, of course. Always does. The sharp glint in her gaze. The way she asks if I’m jealous like it’s a game she already knows the answer to.
I want to grab her and kiss her.
Instead, I say, “So what if I am?”
Because it’s the truth. And I’m done pretending otherwise.
But I leave before I say something I can’t take back. Before I reach for her in a way that will set fire to everything.
AMARA
The sun is barely up when we start preparing to leave, the air already warm with the promise of summer heat. Horses are saddled. Provisions packed.
What’s ahead settles in me. And I’m ready.
Lyra is practically vibrating with excitement.
“I have to come,” she insists, shouldering her pack. “You’re about to bond with a dragon—do you think I’m going to sit back at the outpost like some clueless idiot?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
She grins. “Good. Because I was coming either way.”
Ahead, Thane and Valen are standing with their horses, checking the straps on their saddles, going over last-minute details.
The morning light catches in Thane’s dark hair, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. He’s already focused, already locked in for the journey ahead.
“Thalor.”
I turn as Kieran steps in front of me, hands resting easily at his sides, his usual cocky grin in place.
“Thought you’d sneak off before I could say goodbye?”
I smirk. “You’d have found me anyway.”
“Damn right.” His blue-silver eyes glint with something playful—but there’s warmth there, too. Real. Unmistakable.
His gaze flicks over my face. He cocks his head. “You ready for this?”
I nod. “More than ready.”
Kieran hums, approving. Then—before I realize what he’s doing—he steps forward and presses a quick kiss to my cheek.
It’s warm. Gentle. Brief.
My breath catches.
He lingers for half a second, then leans back just enough to meet my eyes, grinning. “Don’t fall yet.”
A wink.
Then turns, striding back toward camp like he didn’t just knock the breath out of me.
I’m still standing there, processing, when Lyra catches my eye. Her brows lift. Her grin says it all. Told you so.
Before I can react, she subtly jerks her chin behind me. I don’t need to look. I feel it.
Thane.
I turn slightly, just enough to see him already mounted on his horse—a sleek black stallion, its coat catching the low morning light. But it’s not the horse that holds me.
It’s him. His eyes.
Piercing. Fixed on me. His jaw ticks. His fingers twitch once on the reins before he reins in whatever storm is rolling through him.
I should feel triumphant. Or flattered. Or smug.
But all I feel is . . . confused.
Lyra leans in, voice low. “Oh, he did not like that.”
I swallow hard. “Not helping.”
She grins. “I wasn’t trying to.”
THANE
The sun is barely up, but the heat is already rising. Summer has crept into the air—thick, golden—and we’re readying the horses before the rest of the outpost even stirs.
I check the saddle straps again. Not because I need to. Because it keeps my hands busy. Because she’s behind me—laughing with Lyra, shifting her pack, moving with that quiet determination she’s worn like armor for days.
She’s ready.
Gods help me, she’s ready.
And then he shows up.
Kieran.
I see him stop her. See the way her eyes light up. See the easy grin he wears—like he’s not aware, or doesn’t care, that she’s about to do something today that could kill her.
That this day could change everything.
I’ve tried.
Fuck, I’ve tried to keep my distance.
I’ve told myself it’s in her best interest—that she’s already carrying more than anyone ever should, and the last thing she needs is me.
That I should draw a line and hold it.
For her. For the realm.
For everything I can’t say.
Because there are things she doesn’t know—things I’ve buried so deep I barely let myself look at them. Truths that would change everything if they came to light.
So I held back.
Until I couldn’t.
Because no matter how many steps I take away from her, I still end up here. Drawn in. Undone by something I was never supposed to want.
I keep telling myself to stay away. But that voice gets quieter every day.
He leans in. Says something I can’t hear.
And then—he kisses her. Just the cheek. Quick, but confident. Like she’s already his.
My jaw tightens. Fingers flex on the reins. I don’t move. Don’t speak. But a heat blazes in my chest like wildfire.
Amara turns slightly and sees me.
I hold her gaze. That’s all I give her.
All I can give her.
Because if I go to her now, I don’t trust myself to keep it light. And this day can’t be about me.
It’s about her. Her dragon. What comes next.
Lyra leans in to whisper something. Amara doesn’t laugh this time. Just presses her lips together and shakes her head.
Good. Let her feel it.
Because I am not amused.