74. Vameer
Vameer
Volik smiles while he shoves his shirt off.
He’s smiled more in the past hour than I think I’ve ever seen before.
“I’m happy for you,” I tell him.
He looks in the direction of our women. “She is everything I ever wanted.”
His tone is pure sincerity. And I believe him. Because I feel the same way.
“I understand.” I push the robe off my right arm. “I think I was waiting for her. For Rune to wake me up.”
Volik holds his shirt out to me. “She woke you?”
I reach for the black fabric, but Volik’s hand lowers. “How—”
I follow his wide-eyed look to my shoulder.
“How is that possible?”
I run my hand down my arm, over the thick, winding scar. “A magicked dagger. It was meant for my heart, so I consider it a mark of victory.”
“But even with magic…” Volik steps closer, looking at the scar that never healed but should have.
“Well…”
My brother narrows his eyes at me. “Well, what?”
I shrug. “I was twenty-five.” The age is all the explanation needed. We are not our full selves until thirty. I did not have my full healing powers.
His expression doesn’t change. “Twenty-five. As in, you have had this scar for… two hundred and seventy-five years. And I am just now learning about it.”
I tip my head. “Two hundred and seventy-three, I think.”
Volik clenches his jaw.
I slap him on the shoulder. “If you’d asked me to strip sooner, you’d have seen it sooner.”
He gestures to my body. “Anything else you want to show me while we are at it?”
I smirk. “If you want to compare sizes, little brother, just say so.”
“I see you did not mature while you slept.”
I laugh at his deadpan delivery. “It really is good to see you.”
He nods. “It is.”
“I plan to stay nearby. So there will be lots of time for me to share all the gory stories of my past.” I snag the shirt from Volik’s hand. “I want to be close to my family.”
Volik nods again. “We would both like that.”
“Good.” I shove an arm into his sleeve. “We’ll get our own home, though. I don’t want to ever hear you fucking.”
My brother huffs. “Likewise.”
A minute later, he’s helping me pull the shirt off my arms.
It fits enough that I can get it on. But not buttoned.
“I will give you something to wear under your robe. Tomorrow, I will introduce you to Dread. He is the closest druid, and a friend. He can get you to Chicago for more clothes.”
Adjusting the chain at my waist, I agree to the plan.