Page 32 of Bound
I look at him, but his eyes are heavy-lidded and closer to black than green. Blacker than the marks on his arms.
Scooping the flame in my hand, I draw it away from his skin. His eyes snap wide, following the motion.
The little fire shimmers in my palm, the ethereal green hue morphing into a deep rich blue, then a soft lilac.
Gage stares. “How?” he breathes. “No one can touch my fire. Not even the demon.”
Caine grunts. “Love you too, Fire Fae.”
Gage shoots him a glower, and the demon falls silent.
I curl my hand around the flame, and it disappears into curls of purple smoke. “I have no power of my own,” I say, and the words come out laced with the old ache. One I wish I no longer felt. “But my magick can absorb another Fae’s. It becomes my own. But only through physical touch.”
He remains silent, and I nibble at my lip.
“It doesn’t last,” I say, fast. “And I can’t hold more than the Fae uses. I can’t siphon magick that isn’t already active, and I would never steal another’s power.”
He sits in stillness. “So this morning …”
“When you grabbed me, your flames were still rolling along your arms. I should have said something then. I’m sorry, Gage. I—”
He climbs to his feet fast, leaving me gazing up the long line of his body. “It’s fine,” he says, tone gruff. “I’m going to explain to Horan what happened. You should speak to Wena. She seemed distraught when I arrived.” He starts toward the door.
“Gage.”
He stops at the open panel, his back to me.
“I am sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to use your magick.”
His eyes meet mine over his shoulder, but he merely inclines his head and stalks from the room.
I droop down, my hands mottled in my lap as Gage’s near silent footfalls descend the stairs.
“He is not upset with you.” Caine’s voice is a silken whisper, and I turn to find him seated at the foot of the bed. His crimson eyes track over me. “You are the first person I have ever seen that can withstand the burn of his fire.”
My lips part. “What?”
Caine climbs to his feet. “Everyone gets burned by it. Even him.”
I glance back at the empty landing. “Oh.”
“Imagine how lonely that must be,” he continues as he starts to the door. “Everyone being afraid to touch you. Never being sure if a hug or a kiss will spark the flames. Being unable to experience more.”
Heat curls inside me.
“I don’t know how he has withstood that distance for so long.” Caine glances back at me as he speaks. “It would drive me mad.” He slips from the room, and I can only stare after him.
To never be touched?
The ache inside me grows.
The Fae are secretive about their power. We don’t share it. Don’t like others knowing just how strong or weak we are. It’s why we never shake hands, and even intimate moments are careful. Reserved.
Only Sila or Branwen touch me. And it has never been with a hint of their power. They are both cautious, fearful that I will mimic their gifts.
But for Gage to never be hugged, to have even his own team keep their distance for fear of such beautiful fire …
Warmth spills from my eyes, and I scrub at the tears.
Gage is stronger than I ever knew. And now, his distance, his coldness …
It makes so much sense.
He doesn’t hate the world. He just wants to make sure it never hates him.
