Page 112 of The Bonds of Indigo

“And that is?” I ask.

Her eyes shift; indigo swirling between blue and violet, a storm of pain barely held together.

“Trust. Trust that, for once, I won’t make a decision that will destroy me.”

Chapter 29

We make it to Achien, but the rain has only gotten worse. Sheets of it blur the windshield, drowning out the headlights behind us. And, of course, another gate has opened—news that has Amarah wound tight enough to snap. She keeps insisting it must be because of her. She’s worried Belial somehow knows she’s trying to open the gates against their laws, and is trying to get to her.

She’s wrong. I know she’s wrong. But logic doesn’t do much against fear.

I’ve told her a dozen times she isn’t the cause. She said Vendra mentioned a “deal,” which I wisely chose not to comment on, but she’s still convinced she’s the problem.

A car accident up ahead has the highway backed up for miles, and with the downpour only getting worse, I finally pull off. No sense idling in the truck while she shivers beside me, pretending she isn’t cold.

The town we end up in is the kind built for truckers and strays. One of those places with a single store that sells everything from soup cans to spare tires, a gas station, and one sad hotel squatting in the middle of it all.

And, of course, everyone else stuck in this storm had the exact same idea we did: find a place to rest for the night.

There’s only one room left. And based on the clerk’s comment about “no more roll-out beds,” it’s safe to assume it has just one bed.

Amarah is going to love this.

After paying with Atlas’s card—thanks, buddy—I head back out to the truck idling under the overhang. I slip into the driver’s seat and pull us into the lot.

“No rooms?” she asks, sounding genuinely disappointed, but not in a complaining way. She never complains, no matter where she’s had to sleep.

“I got us one.”

She lets out a breath of relief and unclicks her seatbelt. “Thank Vendra herself. I could use a shower.”

She reaches for the door handle but I grab her upper arm, stopping her.

“I parked on this side because the room is right there.” I point to the second-floor railing. “But it’s raining, and you’re pants-less.”

She glances down at her bare legs and rolls her eyes. “I probably should’ve walked through the lobby.”

“Uh, no.” I shake my head hard enough to rattle something. “There were a ton of people in there, and that’s a fucking no.”

She clicks her tongue, dramatic as ever. “You’re so weird…”

Not weird. Possessive.

“Cover yourself as best you can with my jacket.”

She snatches it from me, muttering, “Surprised you aren’t grabbing me and running me in.” Then she throws it over her head like some makeshift cloak.

As soon as I let her go, she bolts out of the truck. I was going to take her in, but she’d get far wetter than just running herself.

The thought of her wet…

Stop it.

I grab our bags, rush to the side door, and wait for her to cross the ten-foot gap.

The moment we step into the hotel’s side entrance, I scoop her up without hesitation.

“Kayn, I can—” I get her up the stairs, down the hall, and to our door by the time she finishes “—walk. Gods almighty.”