Page 156 of Volik

Stretching my right leg out over his, I drag my finger over my knee.

Over the smooth, unmarked skin.

“I… had a scar.” I draw a short line with my fingertip. “It’s gone now.”

Volik moves his hand off his chest to cover mine, blocking my view of the healed scar. “What happened?”

I swallow. “Not a what. A who.”

Volik doesn’t move.

He doesn’t tense.

His fingers stay gentle over mine.

But the room… it shakes.

“Who?”

“A—” I turn my head, meeting Volik’s eyes. “It was a man.”

The tremor around us intensifies until Volik closes his eyes and takes a slow breath.

The room stills, and his eyes open. “Tell me.”

I press my lips together, needing them not to tremble, but stop when my fang threatens to break skin.

The palm on my back strokes slowly up, then down. “Tell me, Mea Unica.”

“I will.” I nod. “I just… Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Volik slowly shakes his head.

“But you weren’t a… virgin. Right?”

He slowly shakes his head again. “I am sorry.”

“No—”

“I should have waited for you.” His voice sounds like heartbreak. “I am sorry. You are My Only and⁠—”

“Volik, stop. That’s not⁠—”

“I was a fool. Young. I knew I would eventually meet—” He slides his hand down my back, like he might pull it away from me completely.

Twisting, I put my hand over his mouth as I shift on the mattress to face him. “Just shut up, okay? And put your hands back on me.”

I’m sitting cross-legged between his spread legs, so he settles his hands on my bare thighs.

I lower my hands so they’re on top of his. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t hold your past against you.” I mean it, even though my chest feels extra heavy when I think about it. “I-it was a long time ago?” My voice loses its certainty, giving away the fact that even though I’m not mad, I don’t like it.

No, I don’t like the idea of another person knowing what Volik’s skin feels like. Knowing what his hands feel like.

His fingers flex against the softness of my thighs as he lowers his chin, his gaze dropping from mine. “It has been a long time. I… Eighty years, I think. Since then, I have not wanted.” He lifts his eyes back to mine. “I have never wanted, like I want you.”

“Good.”

Eighty years does make me feel a little bit better.