Forged Destiny [Book 2: Ch. 8]

I glanced down to my hands, her cold foot clasped between them. I could speed up the process a little… much like I had with her before. My eyes closed as I took a deep breath and concentrated, drawing heat to my palms like I had to start the fire, but far less. I didn't want to hurt her, or to overpower her senses, but instead to work the heat into her body. My hands tingled as I felt my Passive come to life. I gripped her foot and massaged it, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw her skin colour darken. It was working! I placed it down on my lap when it was done, picking up her other – which felt icy by comparison – and working on it too.

This was perhaps the first time I'd ever really found a real use for my Passive. The irony that it was for something unrelated to blacksmithing wasn't lost on me. Anyone could avoid being burned by their own forging… all they had to do was follow the basic safety precautions, but now I had irrefutable evidence that my Passive was useful. It started the fire, and now – as I cupped my hands and ran them up and down her left leg – it was massaging heat back into her body. It was saving the life of one of my friends.

—Forged Destiny [Book 2: Ch. 8]