FORTY-TWO
IT ALL MATTERS
Home can have many forms. Sometimes it’s a place marked on a map.
A cottage tucked beneath ancient pines, or a bustling city of lantern-lit streets.
Sometimes it’s a memory carried across oceans and mountains, a feeling that lingers long after the road has stretched beyond the horizon.
But I have learned that home can be far simpler than stone walls or familiar skies. Sometimes it is the one you love.
—VALEN’S JOURNAL
AMARA
As we head toward Valen’s rooms, the stone corridors of the castle stretch before us, the air cool despite the afternoon sun spilling through the tall windows.
Thane walks beside me. The weight of the ring on my finger is still new, a different kind of awareness.
Not just the metal, but the quiet hum of magics beneath it.
We move in comfortable silence, the sound of our boots against the stone. I steal a glance up at him, taking in the sharp lines of his profile, the ever-present focus in his expression, even when he isn’t looking at me.
“You know, you don’t have to walk me to Valen’s,” I say. “I know where his quarters are now. I’ve been there several times.”
Thane shrugs. “I know. I want to.”
He glances down at me.
“I’ll take any excuse to be near you. Even if it means being reduced to your personal bodyguard. A tragic fall from power, really.”
I scoff, nudging him lightly with my elbow.
“Yes, truly tragic. Should I start calling you Lord Escort?”
His eyes twinkle. “At least give me something with a bit more dignity. ‘Warlord of Escort to the Spiritborn’ has a certain ring to it.”
Laughing, I lean into his arm. My free hand wraps around his bicep, fingers curling against the solid muscle beneath his tunic.
Gods, this man is perfection.
Thane chuckles softly, then presses a kiss to the top of my head. A simple, fleeting touch, but one that sends warmth curling low in my stomach.
Then we turn the corner and nearly collide with Rowena.
She stops abruptly, her sharp gaze flicking between us before one brow lifts.
“Ah. There you are.”
Her attention settles on Thane.
“I’ve been looking for you, little brother.”
Thane smiles, lighthearted, easy. “And you found me.”
Rowena rolls her eyes, but Thane only grins. Then his gaze flicks back to me, and just like that, everything shifts.
His smile softens, and for a moment, it’s just us. I don’t just see the love in his eyes, I feel it in the bond. In the way his hand finds mine without thinking. In the quiet certainty that no matter who else is standing around us, part of his attention is always on me.
The realization still feels new. And a little miraculous.
Rowena crosses her arms and studies us, her sharp gaze moving between Thane and me.
“Okay, lovebirds, you’re grosser than usual. What’s—”
Her words cut off as her gaze drops to my hand. The dark metal catches the light where my fingers are still curled around Thane’s arm.
“Oh.”
A beat passes.
Then her eyes widen.
“Oh! Thane, you gave her the ring!”
The grin that spreads across her face is immediate. Before I can react, Rowena launches herself at me and wraps me in a bone-crushing hug.
“You gave her the ring!” she practically shrieks in my ear.
I let out a strangled laugh as my ribs protest. My arms flail before I manage to return the hug.
“Rowena—breathing—becoming a problem.”
She ignores me entirely, only squeezing me tighter. For someone so small, Rowena is alarmingly strong.
“Do you even know what this means?”
I blink, still trying to regain my breath. “That I might not survive this hug?”
She pulls back just enough to grip my shoulders, her eyes alight with a mixture of mischief and deep significance.
“No, you idiot. This isn’t just a ring.” She points dramatically at my hand. “It’s the ring.”
Thane clears his throat, but Rowena barrels on. She gestures toward the ring on my finger, her expression shifting from excitement to borderline reverent.
“This ring has connected warriors across battlefields. It has led lovers home through war and ruin. It doesn’t just mark a promise.”
Her fingers brush the edge of the dark metal.
“It ensures it.”
Her voice softens.
“Even if fate itself tries to pull you apart, this ring will find a way to bring you back to each other. It has been worn by warriors, rulers, and by those who carried great burdens. It has survived war, exile, bloodshed, and ruin, and yet it has never been lost. Never forgotten.”
She lifts her gaze to mine. “Do you know why?”
I shake my head.
“Because it always finds its way home.”
The moment seems to crystallize around us.
Then Rowena abruptly slaps both of us in the chest.
“And home is the two of you!”
Both Thane and I flinch.
“Gods, Rowena,” I sputter.
Thane chuckles, rubbing a hand over his chest.
The ring hums against my skin and I glance up at him.
He isn’t laughing anymore. He watches me quietly, completely unguarded, as though he’s waiting for me to understand. And then, like fog lifting from a landscape, I finally see it clearly.
This ring is not just about love or about the future he hopes we might have.
It’s about the war.
For weeks now, we’ve had this time. A fragile, stolen peace amidst the chaos.
Even with the council meetings, training, magics practice, and endless afternoons spent buried in research, we’ve still had each other.
We’ve stolen moments whenever we could, finding solace in quiet touches, shared glances across crowded war tables, and whispered conversations before dawn.
He’s held me through the night, his arms wrapped around me, his presence a constant. And in the morning, I woke up to find him still there, his love never in question.
But who knows what tomorrow brings?
We have no idea what the future holds. No idea if the events ahead will tear us apart, if the choices we make will scatter us across the realm and force us onto paths neither of us can control.
And if that happens, if distance, battle, or fate itself tries to sever what we’ve built, this ring will help us find our way back to each other.
I turn my hand slightly, watching the onyx catch the light. The dark stone glimmers faintly, the ancient magics within it humming beneath the surface.
I lift my gaze to Thane.
There is no hesitation in his expression. No doubt. He knew exactly what this meant when he gave it to me.
Because he knows the cost of war.
The last decade has been quieter than the ones before it. The attacks became less frequent, and when they came, they were scattered and uncoordinated. Until the ball, no Commander had been seen in years. Mostly, it had been Fellborn slipping through weakening wards.
But no one who truly understood the war believed the peace would last.
The conversations behind the closed doors of war rooms, the scholars buried deep within the great archives, and the seers of the Water Clan all pointed to the same conclusion.
Something is building.
Something is coming.
Thane has lived with that certainty since he was a boy. He has felt the weight longer than I have, carrying its burdens long before I became the Spiritborn.
Now he leads armies into battle.
Now he makes the choices no one else can.
He knows the loss it leaves behind. The sacrifices it demands. The way it reaches into every corner of a person’s life and takes more than anyone ever expects to give.
I reach for him through the bond, the invisible thread that now feels stronger than before.
“I understand now.”
His breath catches ever so slightly, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment. When they open again, I see it all there—the love, the devotion, the quiet relief of knowing I finally understand.
I press my palm against his chest, right over his heart.
“And I won’t ever let go.”
The bond thrums, a quiet pulse of shared certainty.
He draws a deep breath, gathering himself. His voice reaches me in return, low and quiet in my mind.
“Neither will I.”
I close my eyes for a brief moment, not because I need to, but because I want to feel it. To feel him and this promise woven between us.
Rowena rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. “This bond thing really has a way of making people feel like a third wheel.”
Thane’s grin widens. “Then walk away.”
He doesn’t even look at Rowena when he says it.
Rowena scoffs, shaking her head. “Rude.”
She gestures toward Thane before sighing dramatically.
“I would walk away, but unfortunately, we have actual responsibilities. Garrick and Jarek have had the soldiers all morning running formations.”
Thane finally drags his attention away from me and looks at his sister. “Sure. I’ll meet you at the training grounds.”
His hand squeezes mine once.
“I want to walk Amara to Valen’s first.”
Rowena arches her brow. “Of course you do.”
Thane doesn’t dignify that with a response, just tilts his head slightly, waiting for her to leave.
Rowena huffs and throws up her hands.
“Fine, fine. Take your time, lovebirds. I’ll make sure Garrick and Jarek haven’t killed anyone before you get there.” She turns, striding down the hall, her voice echoing as she calls back. “But don’t take too long, little brother, or I’ll start leading drills in your name!”
Thane shakes his head, amusement touching his expression before he turns his attention back to me.
“Shall we?”
I laugh as he offers me his elbow. Smiling, I hook my arm through his, and we continue toward Valen’s quarters, our steps easy and unhurried.
“Your sister really likes reminding you that you are her ‘little’ brother.”
Thane scoffs. “She thinks it keeps me humble.”
I arch a brow. “Does it?”
He winks. “Not even a little.”
We pass staff and members of the court as we walk, their eyes flicking toward us before they offer nods of acknowledgment. Some bow their heads while others murmur quiet greetings. Thane acknowledges every single one by name.
Every. Single. One.
I watch, fascinated, as he greets each person with effortless familiarity: a stable hand, a court scribe, even a kitchen attendant balancing a tray.