Page 113 of Onyx Cage: Volume II
I reached over, tucking several strands behind her ear, then tracing the top with my index finger. Sure enough, it was gently pointed.
Her lips parted, and I shot her a smug grin before turning my attention to Gwyn.
“Yours is clearly speed, or perhaps reflexes?” And strength, but that much was obvious from the way she had hauled Davin over her shoulder like a sack of flour.
She nodded, a self-satisfied grin on her lips. “A combination of the two.”
She didn’t add strength, either, because it was so deeply ingrained in them to keep their skills a secret, or maybe because it was a smaller subset of her main affinity.
“And you…” I took another swig of my vodka as I stared Avani down. She raised her eyebrows in a challenge.
Hers was trickier, but there had been small indications of somethingother.
“Your horse has reins, but you didn’t use them,” I mused aloud. “And...the birds were silent yesterday. Something with animals?”
“Very good, Lord Evander.” She raised her glass at me.
“Just Evander,” I countered.
As formal as we could be in Socair, even we didn’t refer to our own family by their titles. And family is what we would all be, as of tomorrow.
“Though as of tomorrow, it will be Prince Evander,” Davin reminded everyone with a half-smile.
Rowan’s eyes lit up with mischief. “He actually prefers Van Van.”
“I do not.” I shook my head. Then, though it went against every Socairan part of me to give up a casual name to people I had known less than a week, I expounded. “But I do go by Van sometimes. Just Van.”
Rowan shrugged a single slim shoulder. “If you say so.”
“So,Van.” Avani emphasized the name, indicating that was likely what she would be calling me from that point on, and almost challenging me to see if I would really allow it. “What about Mamá?”
My brow furrowed. Unless there was a pastry fae, I had no concept of what the queen could do.
“That one, I have no idea on,” I admitted.
“Hers is tricky,” Rowan allowed. “She and Uncle Finn took tonics as children, making their traits a little less evident, but she has some affinity toward nature—trees, specifically.”
It made sense in hindsight. The way she had trailed her hand along the wreaths that looked freshly made, despite the time it should have taken to weave them, and the lively plants even in the darker corners of the castle should have been an indication.
“And Uncle Finn is like Gwyn,” Davin explained. “Though he’s a bit more…”
Gwyn turned her head slowly, eyeing him the way a bird of prey eyes a mouse, daring him to finish his sentence.
Apparently, one punch on the arm had been sufficient for Davin’s evening, though, because he clamped his lips firmly shut.
“I will beat him one day,” Gwyn muttered, taking a sip of her tea like it was every bit as potent as the vodka.
Whatever self-preservation Davin had mustered must have fled him in the overwhelming temptation to taunt his cousin. “Sure, you will,” he said in a placating tone, shaking his head no at the same time.
Predictably, she landed another solid punch on his arm, this one echoing with a resounding thud.
“Well,” he grunted. “Now that you’ve amply demonstrated your skill set, perhaps Gallagher would like to remind us all of his.”
The twin in question only laughed. “Not a chance. You walked right into that.”
Davin’s lips parted in offense as he subtly raked in the next hand of cards. “I can hardly claim responsibility for Gwyn’s every violent whim.”
Avani shook her head, laughing under her breath while she surveyed Davin’s neat stack of tricks—one that topped Gwyn’s by a solid three. He may not always be as competitive as his cousins, but he enjoyed getting the upper hand as much as the rest of them if he was willing to risk his arm to distract Gwyn out of her victory.