Page 110 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

It was minor by comparison to the injuries I had sustained in the past, but I suspected she wouldn’t find that comforting.

After exchanging a brief look with his cousin, Gallagher stretched out a hand toward the still bleeding slice in my flesh, pausing before he made contact with my wound.

“May I?” he asked.

He might have been asking for permission to prod at the cut or apply medicine, but I doubted that was the case in light of what I had witnessed with Rowan. I nodded after a beat.

He pressed his hand over the center of the cut. Heat spread from his palm, subtle enough that I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been expecting anything. He furrowed his brow in concentration, taking several measured breaths. My skin tightened, the wound closing over like an invisible force was pressing the two sides together.

When he pulled his hand back, the mark was pale white, the same faded color as my oldest flogging scars.

I inhaled sharply. Though I had known on some level what he was capable of, it was still a shock to see the laceration all but disappear. My mind was governed entirely by logic, for better or worse—Rowan being the obvious exception. I had learned early to rely on the things that I observed.

So, though I didn’t believe in things as fantastical as magic, neither could I deny the things I had witnessed where this family was concerned.

“Shall I chalk this up to an interest in healing?” It was as close as I would come to asking where their…abilities came from.

Gallagher exchanged another uncomfortable glance with Rowan, who only shrugged.

“Well, you certainly can’t blame Gallagher’s feminine needs,” she said in a wry tone.

His lips turned up at the corners as he got to his feet.

“I’ll leave you two, but you should rest until dinner. Healing takes a lot of your own energy.”

I thanked him, and he saw himself out. Once he was gone, I turned to Rowan, letting her see the question in my gaze.

She shifted on her feet, clearing her throat.

“You know...about my weather...thing,” she said.

“Well, I know you have more than an interest in the weather, or an injured appendage. Or pressing feminine needs,” I tacked on with a smirk.

She let out a small laugh, though her eyes were still warily fixed on mine. “Yet you never asked me about it.”

“I didn’t need to. I trusted you.” I let the rest hang in the air. I hadn’t needed to ask her before, but I did need to know now.

Rowan knowing when a storm was coming wasn’t inherently dangerous, if, indeed, that was the extent of her abilities, but Gallagher’s skill was something people would kill for. Whatever else she or her family were capable of, I needed to know if it put her at risk.

Which she seemed to be explaining, albeit in an incredibly meandering fashion.

“Even that first time?” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Whydidyou believe me?”

It wasn’t hard to remember that day. She had been a massive pain in the arse from the moment I claimed her, but she had been undeniably brave. Even when she shouldn’t have been. Even when discretion would have served her better, when fear might have kept her alive, she had refused to cower.

Aside from the bare moment of panic she had shown when I announced the blood debt, that day with the storm had been the first time I had seen her eyes widen in anything close to fear.

“Lemmikki, you looked me in the eye when the Summit spoke of dismembering you and made a joke about courier costs,” I reminded her. “I kidnapped you, took you to a territory you had heard horror stories about, and you didn’t shed a single tear.” All the way there, I had half expected her to break down, but she never had. “Storms, when we were attacked and outnumbered, you unflinchingly wielded a sword and then stared me down defiantly with your torn dress and your blood-spattered clothes.”

And considered stabbing me, I was fairly certain.

“But besides all of those things, you are a terrible, terrible liar,” I told her bluntly. “So, when you looked at the clouds with something close to actual fear and told me we needed to stop for a storm, I didn’t know how you knew, but I would have been an idiot not to believe you.”

Her eyes softened as she stepped closer to me. Leaning down, she pressed her lips on mine, running a gentle hand through my hair.

“Thank you.” She spoke the words against my mouth before she straightened.

I ran my hands along her sides, relishing the feel of her warmth under my fingertips. “For what?”