Page 81 of Stormvein

He turns to me. “Better?”

I nod, still shivering. My clothes cling to my skin, heavy with rainwater. He tilts his head.

“You should change into something dry.”

“Wasn’t exactly prepared for spending days out in the wilderness.” My teeth are chattering. “Everything in my pack is just as wet.”

He studies me for a moment, then lifts a hand. Shadows flow over his palm, coalescing into three dense spheres. I recognize the shape. It’s similar to the one he created during our journey through the desert. His lips move, forming words barely audible even in the sudden quiet of the cave.

“Asha’valen. Dosmira. Kelth.”

The spheres respond, their centers glowing. He sends two across the chamber and brings the third closer to me. Heat radiates out from it, driving away the chill, but with my clothes so wet, I can’t stop shivering.

Before I can back away, he lifts a hand and presses a single finger beneath my chin, tipping my face up to his. His touch is unexpectedly warm against my cold skin.

Our eyes meet, and for a moment, the cave, the fighters, everything falls away.

“Dosmira,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over my lips.

Warmth spreads from his fingertip, traveling across my skin, seeping downward through my clothes. The moisture lifts, the fabric drying. It feels too intimate. Invisible fingers tracing paths along my ribs, my waist, and lower … caressing places that make my breath hitch.

My lips part, and I have to fight the urge to lean into his touch. The warmth doesn’t just dry my clothes, it awakens every nerve ending, leaving me hyper-aware of the way the heat curves around my breasts, and slides down my spine like a lover’s touch.

His head tilts, eyes tracking over my face, and then his finger moves, tracing along my jaw, and over my lips before dropping away.

The spell breaks, but the heat remains, pooling in the pit of my stomach and between my thighs. I stare at him, filled with a confused tangle of feelings I’m not ready to examine.

“The rain would stop, too, if you weren’t so upset with me.” The comment is delivered in such a casual tone as he turns to look at the rest of the cavern, that I almost miss it.

I frown. “What isthatsupposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He takes a step away.

“No.” I surge forward, grabbing his wrist to stop him. “You don’t get to say something like that and then walk away from me. What are you talking about?”

He looks down at my fingers wrapped around his wrist, a brief frown creasing his forehead, then back up to my face. “Haven’t you noticed the pattern? The storm at the river when I fell? How many other storms have there been between then and now?”

“It’s just weather. Varam said winter is coming. Storms happen.”

“I told you before that emotion can affect your power.”

I release his wrist. “Lightning, yes. But you’re …” I blink. “Are you telling meI’mcausing the rain?”

“Not consciously, but yes. Your emotions feed the storm, strengthen it.” He glances toward the shadow barrier holding back the rain and wind. “Your frustration, your exhaustion …” His lips twitch. “Your annoyance. They find expression.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I shake my head. “The light is inside me. I can feel it moving. But rain is … weather. It’s a natural phenomenon.”

“You don’t believe you’re capable of that.” It’s not a question.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.” But I know what Idon’t believe …that I somehow control the weather with my moods like some kind of human barometer!

He gives me a long look, then lifts one hand. Shadows pool in his palm. “I am Shadowvein.” Reaching out, he takes my hand and turns it palm-up. “Youare Stormvein.”

“Okay …”

He sighs. “I can control shadows, which is why Shadowvein. Tideveins controlled water. Flameveins, fire. Earthveins, earth.” One eyebrow lifts. “What do you think Stormvein controls, Mel’shira?”

“Storms. I get that … Lightning, maybe thunder.”