Page 100 of The Bonds of Indigo

My breath stutters as my world narrows.

I haven’t seen her—not truly—in so long. And yet it was just this morning that I stared into her face reflecting back at me.

“Always trying to get in the way of fate,” she purrs.

Present

“Amarah? Are… you okay?”

I blink rapidly, my eyes dry and aching. Squeezing them shut for a moment, I gather myself before finally looking ahead. A fire crackles a few feet from me, but it’s the soft glow of the rising sun that truly casts light over what’s in front of me.

Atlas, watching me with quiet empathy.

He lowers himself onto the log beside mine, fingers lacing together in his lap. “Can you hear me?”

I nod, swallowing hard.

I’d given Kayn the minute he asked for last night to shove Atlas back into his tent, and when I returned to camp, Kayn was gone. After changing, I stayed up tending the fire until morning crept in. I didn’t disturb Atlas for company; the forest, the dark, and the silence were exactly what I needed.

He must’ve come out at dawn… and who knows how long he’d been calling my name before I finally registered it.

I don’t see any signs of Kayn in the lush greenery surrounding us.

“He’s not back yet,” Atlas murmurs. He places a hand gently on my knee, and I jerk away on instinct. It’s not his fault. I just don’t like being touched…

Except by Kayn, apparently.

“Sorry,” Atlas says softly. “But will you look at me? Your face… I just want⁠—”

I lift a hand to my forehead, fingers brushing the evidence of my past haunting me. A crack runs down to the edge of my brow. My nail drags along the crevasse—like I’m porcelain, and poking at it will prove whether I’m about to shatter.

“Don’t do that.” Atlas grabs my wrist, alarm tightening his voice. “What’s… happening?”

I sigh, closing my eyes and lowering my head. “Can I ask you something first?”

He slowly lets go, and I tuck both hands between my thighs to keep them still.

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you tell Kayn about the scars?”

A low, uneasy laugh leaves him. “Because even back then, I could tell he cared for you—in some way. And I worried what he’d do if he saw them.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek and curl in on myself, wishing I could simply fold small enough to disappear.

“I didn’t mean to disrespect you last night—or, well, this morning.”

I lift my gaze without raising my head. “What do you mean?”

“I saw you walk off, so I followed. Just to make sure⁠—”

“I wouldn’t run,” I finish for him.

“No,” he says quickly. “No, Amarah. I wanted to make sure you were okay. To watch out for you.”

Gods… every inch of my body warms at that. I never really had friends. I stayed with my people, my family. Those who understood what I was.

Now here’s Atlas being a friend to me when I fear I don’t deserve that for how I’ve treated him.