Then, finally, his voice comes—measured. Careful.
“It’s not what I expected,” Valen admits. “The Shadow Forces—their magics are violent. Twisting. Chaotic. Corrupting everything it touches.”
He shifts, thoughtful.
“But what I just saw . . . it wasn’t violent. It wasn’t invasive. It didn’tfeelcold.” His gaze flicks to me, briefly, like he knows I felt it too. “It was . . . controlled. Intentional.”
Valen exhales, tapping a finger absently against his wrist—a habit I’ve seen a dozen times when he’s thinking deeply.
“It doesn’t mean the curse isn’t real,” he says cautiously. “But it might mean we’ve misunderstood it entirely. Or maybe . . . everything we were taught about the Shadow Element was a lie.”
His eyes return to Thane. Steady. Grounded.
“It’s not madness, Thane. Not yet.”
There’s something else in his voice now. Something I didn’t expect.
Hope.
But I also hear the edge in his voice becausenot yetdoesn’t mean never.
Valen tilts his head, studying Thane with that quiet, dissecting calm of his. “How does it feel in your body when you wield it?”
Thane shrugs—casual on the surface, but there’s a slight frown pulling at his mouth, like he’s still trying to make sense of it himself.
“It comes as easily as wielding fire,” he says after a moment. “But . . . smoother. Quieter.”
He glances at me, almost sheepish. “If that makes sense.”
It does.
I nod—because I understand it in my bones. I can wield fire too. And fire isneverquiet. It’s loud. Wild. A scream tearing from the soul—raw and consuming. It doesn’t hurt when I wieldit. But I can feel what it’s capable of the moment it leaves my body—the raw, devastating power of it, rushing out into the world without mercy.
But shadow—what brushed past me—was something else entirely. Not the absence of power. But power without destruction.
Suddenly, my stomach growls again—louder this time, filling the quiet room with an unmistakable sound.
I press a hand to it, wincing.
“Sorry.”
Thane startles, then laughs—”Oh gods! I’ve kept you from dinner!”
He runs a hand through his hair, looking genuinely appalled with himself.
“I’m sorry, Amara. Valen. I’ve been so caught up in all of this, I didn’t realize how late it is. Hang on. I’ll have someone bring food to the study.”
He rises, moving quickly. As he passes me, he reaches out—almost without thinking—and places a hand on my shoulder. A brief touch. Solid. Warm. As if he needs every excuse to ground himself in me.
Then he crosses the room in a few long strides and pulls the door open, calling for someone to bring food.
I turn back—and find Valen already watching me. His gaze lingers on me for a moment longer.
Then, in a voice low enough that it barely disturbs the heavy hush of the room, he says, “You feel it too, don’t you?”
I blink, startled by the straightforwardness of his question. But I don’t pretend not to understand. Because I do. Not just the magics. Not just the bond.
Thane.
