Chapter 16: A Boon and Bargain

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"𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 scars are so faint," Geralt comments, his voice slow and lethargic as he strokes my back.

I hum, keeping my eyes closed, content to simply lay partially sprawled on the Rivian. One of my arms is trapped under my side, the other is thrown across the Witcher's broad chest. I mutter, "Many of them are older than you. I can regale you with the story of each one?"

A laugh sends a warm breath across the crown of my head, "Fuck that."

I smirk and deign to flutter my eyelids open to glance up at the White Wolf, "Or perhaps I should ask about yours? I'm sure you haven't grown tired of that yet."

He tries his best to grimace but he cannot hide the amusement sparkling in golden irises. I chuckle and shift to find the perfect spot against him. It's startlingly easy. I listen to the steady heartbeat beneath my ear as lips brush my forehead.

The rattling of the door jars us from our moment of peace. A gruff voice echoes through the wood, "Get your clothes back on and meet me downstairs. I never could roast a boar quite like you could, Nessa."

My companion groans, "Fuck off, Vesemir."

But the old man does not take no for an answer, "If I don't see you in five, I'll tell Geralt precisely how you lost your sword."

Quick as a whip, I am on my feet and collecting my things, muttering, "Damn him. Should've let the vampire kill him."

The Witcher sits up and grumbles, "Get back in bed."

I shake my head as I hastily pull on my shirt, "He will keep his promise."

A small teasing grin appears on his face, "Must be quite a tale. I would not mind hearing it."

Blue magic slithers around my hair, pulling it into neat braids. I grimace, "You can know it when I'm dead."

"So never?"

I smirk as I tighten the last buckle holding my clothing together, "Precisely."

But I take pity on the man. I lean over the bed and kiss him once, drawing out of reach before it can turn heated.

As I make my way out of the room, I call over my shoulder, "Vesemir was not wrong. I roast an amazing boar. I do hope that I have not tired you out enough to the point where you'll miss it."

Then with a snicker, I glide through the halls back to the main entranceway. I find Vesemir standing near the firepit, the boar already hung on a spit over the flames.

From the look of the glazed skin, I can tell that the man did not actually require my assistance. I jut out a hip and put my hands on my hips, "Really?"

He shrugs, "We were tired of hearing you both."

Eskel, Lambert, and Coen snort from their lounging position at the table.

I point a finger at them, "I don't give a shit about how few of you are left. I will end each one of you."

Their amusement turns into bellowing laughter when Geralt saunters in wearing a simple black tunic and tight pants, his white hair the same mess I left him with.

Vesemir rotates the boar before pulling me down to the table with the others, "Truly unfair. I spent years trying to woo you."

The White Wolf slides next to me, "Did you try being mean to her?"

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