Page 101 of The Bonds of Indigo

“I saw you starting to get undressed,” he continues, rubbing the back of his neck, “and I told Kayn.”

“Why?”

He exhales slowly. “Sometimes people just need a little push. And it was about time he saw you.”

“He sees me every day, Atlas.”

His smile is sad. “Only what you let him, and me, see.”

Silence stretches between us. I use it to listen for footsteps, for the faintest shift of branches or brush. I don’t have supernatural hearing, but I wish I did—just to confirm whether Kayn is close.

Because as sweet as Atlas’s gesture is, as much as it means to me…

It’s Kayn who can protect me.

It’s him that makes me feel safe.

It’s only him that I want that from. Anything from.

“The crack,” I say quietly, touching my forehead, “is part of the hex. It comes and goes. I’ve noticed thinking about my trauma brings it out. Like I’m literally fracturing. A physical reaction to my mental state breaking apart.”

I lean back, giving him a half-hearted smile.

“They say Nocthariel is the worst hex. Not because it harms us directly, but because it strips us of the protections we need to survive an immortal life. It keeps me from dying of old age, but I still sustain every injury—and I keep the evidence of them. I also can’t seem to heal my mind. Not really. I couldn’t even shave my legs because I… fear razors.”

“Oh, Amarah, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.” I take a deep breath, wrapping my arms around my waist as if I can hold myself together. “The expectation for those cursed by Nocthariel is that we’ll eventually lose our minds. That one day we’ll… shatter. End up in a facility for the violently insane, locked in a padded cell, suffering until we finally break apart.”

Atlas’s expression twists with a pain so sharp it feels like it punctures straight through my stomach.

“Have you told Kayn?”

I shake my head.

He hesitates before asking softly, “Then why tell me?”

“Because I know you won’t tell him. You’ll let me do it. And… I trust you.”

“And you don’t trust him?”

“No—I do. I do…” My throat tightens. I just don’t want him to try to save me when I already know I’m a lost cause. “I’m just not sure I can handle his reaction right now.”

Atlas huffs out a laugh. “Fair point. He was mad at me when you fell asleep in my lap. Like I had any control over where you put yourself.”

Heat flares across my cheeks and races down my neck, sinking into the oversized sweater I’m regretting right now.

We fall quiet after that. The fire crackles, the morning birds start to wake, and time moves slow enough to hurt.

Then Kayn walks into camp.

He has no animal with him—nothing caught, nothing hunted—but his hands are covered in enough blood to tell me he didn’t go out for a simple walk.

His eyes narrow at Atlas sitting beside me, but after a beat, they shift to me.

“Morning.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “Morning.”