Page 214 of Golden Eagle

But Vlad tucked his chin, expression grave, even pitying. “You’ve always been the one with a head for dreams. Mircea, too. But not me.”

“Vlad–”

“If you’ll admit it to yourself, you’ll know there’s always been a lack in me. I don’t feel the ways that others do. Nothing calls me to the soft pleasures of life. I know what I am – what I’m capable of – and it would be wrong of me to withhold my talents where they’re needed most.”

“Vlad.”

“I have no mate. No friends. There is nothing to keep me from this.”

“You could have a mate. You could make friends.”

“But I don’t care about those things.” Inevitable, sympathetic.Poor Val for caring.

Something tickled Val’s face, and he realized it was a tear sliding down his cheek. Another, another…His eyes burned, and his throat ached. “You think I’m weak for wanting those things.”

“No, brother. I think you have a heart – but I never have.”

Oh, ithurt. It hurt terribly. And it shouldn’t have mattered, because he had his Mia, and his wolves, and he had Sasha, and Nikita, and their pack, and he had a whole queue of movies to watch on Anna’s laptop; cities to visit, and food to taste, and natural wonders to behold.

But before any of that, he’d had his hateful, uncompromising brother, and that would always be the oldest, deepest, most painful love.

“Then you don’t care about me,” he said, voice tear-choked and pathetic.

“Valerian.” Vlad stepped in close, and Val had to tip his head back, tears dripping off his chin and jaw, running hot down his throat. “Even heartless things can love. Uncle loves power. Mehmet loved power. And I loveyou.”

Val closed his eyes and barely managed to choke back a sob.

“Don’t ever doubt that, dear brother. Never doubt that I want you healthy, and whole, and as far away from this fight as possible.”

You fool, Val thought.You absolute idiot. He sucked in a breath, and opened his eyes, and blinked them clear. Vlad was looking down at him with his own muted brand of tenderness.

“Your mage says you need me,” he said. “That it will take three emperors. That–”

“A theory, at best. And not one that I believe. There’s no precedent for any of the nonsense he spews.”

“But what if he’s right? What if it takes all three Romes? What if – what if you need me, and I’m out – outsightseeing?”

“I’ll manage.”

“After you’ve told me a dozen times you’re ready to die? I should be with you. He’s my uncle, too. We should…what?”

Vlad was smiling. “You remind me of Mother right now.”

“Crying?” he asked with a sneer.

“Ferocious. She would be proud.”

The last time Val had seen her had been in the wild, dancing firelight of Mehmet’s invaded camp, sword in her hand, hair braided, face painted with blue streaks.

“Gods, Mama…” He was exhausted, suddenly. “I never even looked for her. I was too afraid I wouldn’t find her.”

“You should search for her now.” Vlad was still smiling, his expression oddly soft and fond. “Introduce her to Mia. Mother will like her.”

“Just like you?”

Vlad nodded.

Val sucked in a few deep breaths, and blinked away the last of his tears. “I’m being quite serious.” His voice went prim and tight, like it always did when he was ruthlessly checking his emotions. “If you need my help, I want to be there. You’re all I’ve got left of our family. And I–” He bit his lip to keep from crying again, so hard he tasted blood.

---