But just in case, I deflect.
“By the Elemental gods, you always talk in circles,” I mutter.
Valen’s mouth quirks—something between a smirk and a sigh. “Only when the straight line gets ignored.”
I shake my head. “Well, now you’re just being a stubborn ass.”
But he’s not done.
“She’s not just the Spiritborn, Thane. She’s a person. And so are you.”
I scoff, low and humorless. “That luxury passed me by a long time ago.”
His gaze sharpens. “No,” he says. “You just keep giving it away.”
He spins—slow, clumsy, dramatic—and tosses me a look like he just won the godsdamn war.
And then, with the firelight dancing around him and soldiers clapping in time, he says loud enough for me to hear, “Better a stubborn ass than a fool.”
The grin vanishes as quickly as it came. Replaced by that maddening, knowing calm he wears when he’s landed a blow that cuts too close.
Then he turns away, vanishing into the dancers like he didn’t just gut me in front of the fire. And all I can do is stand there, hands fisted at my sides, pretending his words didn’t land exactly where he aimed.
Ican’tlet myself feel for someone who is the fuckingprophecy incarnate. She is the key to ending the Shadow Forces. To finishing this bloody war.
And I’m the one who has to train her for it. To lead her into it.
If I fall for her—if I let her in—it could cost the realm its only chance at peace.
Kieran says something that makes her laugh, and it hits me low, sharp. The kind of sound you don’t know you need until you’re aching for it.
And then—she kisses him.
Quick. Careless. Just a flicker of contact.
But it lands like a blow. I don’t move—don’t flinch. But inside, something shatters.
This is better. This is how itshouldbe.
She shouldn’t be with me—for more reasons than I can count. Not just because of what’s at stake. But because if she gets close . . . if I let her in . . . I’ll only put her in danger.
Danger beyond being the Spiritborn. Beyond the war.
Me.
She pulls back, still laughing, and Kieran grins like he’s won something. Like he hasanyidea what it means to hold something that bright.
And for a heartbeat, they look perfect together. Effortless. Free. Not burdened by shadows. Not born for ruin.
I tell myself it’s nothing. That it’s better this way.
But I’m lying—and I know it. Because I felt it. That twist of something real. Raw.
Impossible.
The part of me that still wants.
I turn away before that part wins. Before I reach for something I can’t afford to need.
