Page 50 of The Bonds of Indigo

My friend hands her a key. “First room right there.” He points over her shoulder. “Bottom. We will be… I think six rooms down on the second floor.”

“Thanks,” she says, taking the key. She turns from us and stalks toward the room. The parking lot she crosses is full of cars, and I’m already thinking we’ll be carjacking one of them bright and early.

The moment I start to walk, Atlas grabs my arm to stop me. “Real quick.”

I hum. “What’s up?”

He releases a sigh. “I know you don’t have much of a choice, but are you sure she’s worth all this trouble? There has to be another way.”

“And what way is that?”

He runs his fingers up and through his short blond hair. “Point taken. But can you really trust her? Fucking Vayl above, she shredded through that Werewolf without breaking a sweat—and did it injured. Shit, she’s on the verge of passing out now and still walks like… nothing’s wrong.”

“She’s good at concealing, which only makes me trust her that much less than I already do. I can snap her neck if she gets out of line. I won’t give her the girth to channel and take my head.”

He slaps my arm. “Good. While I’m having a hard time trusting her, I kind of like her.”

Groaning, I scoff, “Of course you do.”

I start to head toward our room when he says, “Wait, that isn’t all.”

Without slowing, I watch as Amarah reaches her door and opens it. She checks over her shoulder, then slips inside, shutting it softly behind her.

“What else is there?”

Atlas gets to my side quickly. “By chance… have you seen her back?”

“That’s fucking random. Like, bare?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“No. But why would I have?”

His lips purse outward as he takes a deep breath. “Don’t know, maybe you caught it in the few days you were together before I showed up.”

I narrow my eyes at him as my steps slow. “Why do you ask, Atlas?”

A weary expression overtakes his usually stoic one, and I’m not entirely sure why, but my stomach knots at whatever he might tell me next.

Chapter 14

All I can smell is copper and cleaning chemicals. Nothing else permeates my senses.

My arms shake, my body so cold that the constant pain intensifies, amplifying every ache. The cuffs around my wrists have ground into my skin, and I swear I can feel the bite of metal against bone.

The crack of the hundred-and-sixteenth lash against my back rips a scream from my throat. It’s not even the slash of the whip that does me in, but the freezing salt water poured over the wounds after each and every one. When the splash comes, I pull hard against my restraints, and even though I know it’s futile, I try to break free.

My knees can’t spread any wider than they already are, and since I’ve been in this position for who knows how long, I’ve lost the ability to move my legs. The stone beneath my bare skin feels warm compared to everything else, and I just wish I could have had a blanket to help with how violently my body shakes.

Heat would make the pain go away. I swear it would…

“Twenty more to go, Witch.”

“P-Please!” My voice jumps as another snap of the whip comes.

The moment my head drops, someone grabs my face and forces it upward. “Stay awake, or you’ll have to take more.”

My tears fall faster, snot sliding down to my lips. “Please! M-Make it stop… Please… I-I’m sorry, I didn’t⁠—”