Page 109 of The Bonds of Indigo

“Why did you get a lioness on your arm?”

Of course she’d interrupt before I even get the first question out. It’s fine. She isn’t going anywhere—we’ve got several straight days for interrogation.

“Believe it or not, it’s designed after one I know personally.”

“That’s not weird.”

“Says the girl who can’t say her own name out loud.”

She lets out a tiny giggle. “Shut up… but don’t. Tell me about them.”

“Them?”

“Your tattoos.”

I shift a little so she can see my arm as much as she wants. “I met the lioness in a forest. She had a butterfly perched on her nose like it wasn’t one twitch away from being flattened. It’s a dedication to her. The mountains above it are for where I met Luce. The crescent moon at the top just… fit.”

She hums softly, like she’s cataloging every detail. Then, surprising me, she grabs my wrist and flips my hand to see the back of it.

“And is this a frog skull?” she asks, squinting. “Like a⁠—”

“It’s a demon frog skull,” I correct quickly. “And you can’t laugh if I tell you why I got it.”

“No promises.”

I groan. “I used to have a recurring dream about being chased by a demon frog⁠—”

She snorts immediately, dissolving into a snickering laugh.

“That’s so rude. I was a kid!”

“You weren’t when you got it.”

Fair point.

“Alright, alright,” I concede with a huff. “It looks cool, though. And how many people do you know with a demon frog skull tattoo?”

Her smile says she likes it. Likes the story, likes the honesty, likes this. And Gods help me, that does something to me I’m not ready to name.

She leans into me a little more, and I can’t tell if she realizes she’s doing it but fuck me, I’m glad she does.

“I can confidently say, not many,” she murmurs. “Definitely unique.”

I adjust myself just slightly. Enough so she rests more against my right pec instead of tucked awkwardly under my arm, but not enough to scare her off. I absolutely don’t stop her fingers as they graze the top of my hand.

That touch is… dangerous.

“What about yours?” I ask. “The one on your sternum.”

I hear her swallow. “You peeked.”

“Technically, I saw it the other day. You know, when you were naked.”

Her groan of frustration is downright adorable. But I’d be a lying sack of shit if I said I didn’t want a very different kind of sound out of her.

“The top part is a rune,” she says quietly. “It weaves into a lotus flower. It’s for strength. The pieces that dangle are meant to look like a chandelier. The four small jewels—two on each side—were for my siblings. The one in the center is me. The lowest one, the one closest to my belly button.”

“You have siblings?” I keep my tone gentle because I hadn’t missed the past tense.