Page 54 of The Bonds of Indigo

My bottom lip trembles.

Resting on my side, I curl my knees up to my chest. That’s what’s going to happen regardless, but my Gods, does it pull tight on that thread between us.

I need Vendra to break it, because I shouldn’t feel this ache.

“Amarah?”

Goodnight, Butcher.

“Ama—” I throw up a wall and shut him out. I should’ve done that the moment he reached out, but stupidly I kept listening.

Shutting my eyes, I hear my mother’s voice, just after my eighteenth birthday:

“Your chosen bond is your other half, Amarah darling. It’s sacred, and never to be given lightly. It was easy for me with your father nearly twenty-five hundred years ago. We were destined to be together, but for you, it will be more difficult given the times we are in. So, give it time and don’t rush it. While the bonds that tie to your mated will be beautiful and raw, the pain that can come with it can be just as strong. Remember, we can only bond once, so make sure they’re the one.”

It’s not even that it’s been wasted that hurts.

It’s knowing I’ll never get that feeling my mother had.

I’m not going to pretend I was better off in that cell, but I can’t lie to myself that I’m better out here. Because I’m just as trapped.

Damn my fate, and damn you, Kayn, for making it fucking worse.

Chapter 15

Athunderous groan vibrates right out of my throat.

I’m sitting here alone on the stairway that leads to the second floor of the motel, so there’s no one to disturb with the intensity of it.

My head hurts, but it’s my own fault, so I’ve got no one to blame but myself. I haven’t fed since that night at the bar when Alaric gave me the information I needed to find a way to Lucifer. Indulging like I did last night was stupid. Especially because I chose the drunkest patrons at the bar to do it on.

I needed just a small relief from searching for that damn indigo thread.

Yet it didn’t fucking matter—even swaying back to this damn motel, I was looking for it. Why does it have to be her that it’s attached to? I wasn’t lying last night when I said I wanted so badly for Lucifer to be on the other end of it, but fuck, I didn’t want to…

I shake my head.

“Goodnight, Butcher.”

My inebriated ass couldn’t tell she was listening, but the moment she shut me out, I could sense the difference.

It’s the damn bond that’s making me feel empathetic to how hurt she sounded. That girl is a manipulator, a psychopath, and a killer of kids. I cannot, under any circumstances, feel sorry for her.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

For fuck’s sake, I just sat down. It can’t be five in the morning already.

Atlas leaps over the guardrail to the first floor from the landing behind me. He tucks his hands into the singular pocket of his sweatshirt. “You look like absolute shit, my friend.”

I roll my eyes and flex my head around my shoulders, hearing the pop as I bring it from left to right.

“Didn’t get a chance to tell you, but your Witch ate last night.”

“She ain’t my Witch, Atlas.”

“Oookay. Whatever. Her body has to go through nutritional rehabilitation. I’m certain she only ate once a day—if that—for seven years. How she didn’t die is beyond me.”

Biting down on my inner cheek, I run my fingers up and through my hair. Holding my head, I shut my eyes and just listen to him talk.