I shift slightly, stretching, testing the stiffness in my limbs. Beside me, Thane stirs. Not much—just a slow inhale, the faintest tension rippling through him before he settles again. His breath hitches. Barely noticeable, barely there. I might not have caught it if I weren’t this close.
But then, it’s gone. He exhales, his body easing, his expression smoothing out once more.
I press my lips together, exhaling softly as I push myself up, careful not to jostle the bed too much. My body aches, but the pain is manageable. The wound is healed, the discomfort only a shadow of what it was. Thane doesn’t stir again.
Time to start the day.
Gods, am I tempted to wake him again.
But I don’t wake him. Instead, I watch the light shift across his skin—and wonder when he’ll stop pretending I don’t see he’s still holding back.
The sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting golden light over the outpost training grounds. The warmth clings to my skin, but I barely feel it. All my focus is on the energy surging through me. Four elements. Fire. Water. Air. Earth.
Each one a force of its own. Each one demanding to bebalanced, controlled—wielded as one.
And when I try to center myself, it’s not the elements that rise first—it’s thoughts ofhim.
I stand in the center of the clearing, feet planted firmly, my breaths even, controlled. My fingers tremble slightly as I pull the elements into me. It’s like grabbing hold of a storm.
Fire flares first, licking up my arms, hot, alive, impatient. Wind whirls around me, twisting through my hair, tugging at my clothes like a restless toddler. Water gathers at my fingertips, droplets forming, shifting, coiling around my wrists. And beneath me, the ground hums with power, a deep, steady vibration anchoring it all.
I try to breathe them into unity. But they move like strangers, not kin.
I exhale, stretching my hands outward, letting the power rise. But the moment I do—it slips. At one point, I almost drenched a passing squadron on their way back from a run.
The wind pulls too hard, sending a rush of air outward that nearly knocks me back. The flames sputter, faltering for half a second before reigniting, too wild, too uncontrolled. Water pulses around my hands but refuses to hold form. The earth beneath me trembles, but it isn’t steady.
I curse under my breath, forcing the elements back into balance, but they resist. Like they know my mind is elsewhere. Like they can feel it.
Across from me, Valen watches. He doesn’t say anything at first—just observes, his staff pressed into the dirt, his stance relaxed. But by now, I know him too well.
I grit my teeth, trying again. Pulling the magics back into alignment, forcing them to move together. But it keeps slipping.
The moment I have it, the moment it feels stable—something wavers, and the balance breaks. The wind surges, the fire sparks too fast, the water scatters, the earth trembles without direction.
“Shit,” I mutter, cutting off the flow entirely as the magics slip from my grasp.
Valen watches me, unimpressed. “Are you still in pain?”
I shake my head, rolling out my shoulders. “No. Just sore. Not in pain like yesterday.”
He exhales, tilting his head slightly, his expression giving nothing away. “Then you’re distracted.”
I glare at him. “I’m fine.”
His brow lifts, his stare pointed. “Are you?”
I huff, forcing a deep breath through my nose. “Yes.”
Valen doesn’t blink. And I know, without a doubt, he doesn’t believe me. Because he’s right. Iamdistracted. Thane distracts me.
And I keep thinking about that fucking bond—it cracked open something I didn’t agree to—and now the magics are asking questions I don’t have answers for.
I clench my fists, forcing my magics back into control. I need to focus. I need to prove that I can do this. Even as the doubt lingers at the edge of my mind.
The moment I reach for control, it turns on me.
Wind shrieks in my ears. Fire lashes toward the tree line. Water erupts like a lash from my palms. The ground gives—just slightly—but enough to make the squadron fifty yards away go still.
