Page 135 of The Bonds of Indigo

Her skin prickles with goosebumps under my fingers—a damn addiction to feel.

“No… I do…”

“Did you ever go to concerts?”

She lets out a pfft and shoves me lightly. “I was twenty when I was put into prison, not a child. Of course I did…”

I hate how sad she sounds at the end of that.

“Let’s stay for one song. Then we’ll go.”

When she looks up at me, with that soft parting of her lips, I flash her a bright grin. The whole area is muted of color, like we’re standing in a washed-out grayscale haze, but nothing dims the warm flush rising on her cheeks… or the vivid shade of her eyes.

Even if the world lost all its color, she’d be the one thing vibrant enough to bring it back to life.

“Okay… yeah, let’s⁠—”

I scoop her up quickly, earning a startled screech, and run us toward the gathering of people—Mundane pace, nothing flashy. We don’t need to be up front, but I get us close enough to see the stage, leaving plenty of space so we’re not crushed against anyone. Most of the crowd is already amassing near the mosh pit anyway.

When I set her down, she looks toward the stage.

“Last time I went to one of these, I was right at the metal gate in front.”

Gods, her smile is so genuine my heart beats faster.

“I went with my eldest brother. He was always so protective. Thought I’d get snatched up, even though I was stronger than him. It was sweet, and we both had a wonderful time.”

“Do you remember the artist?” I step behind her, pressing her backside against me.

“Something Roach—the rock band that all turned Vampire so they could keep making music.”

“Didn’t realize they were still popular.”

“They aren’t.” She laughs and tilts her head back, giving me a wink that pushes me further into this pit of obsession.

She’s about to keep talking when the song actually starts. A female artist’s voice rises, and as if the speakers suddenly double in power, the music rolls across the mile-wide sea of people.

Amarah begins rocking her head side to side, and soon her shoulders follow.

“Odd how there aren’t any authorities here,” she slips through the bond seamlessly.

“Oh, they’re here. They’re just enjoying themselves.”

Her giggle pierces me like a shot of pure adrenaline.

The chorus hits, and I’m sure nearly everyone around us starts singing along. I haven’t heard this song before, but the artist’s voice sounds familiar.

My girl starts bouncing lightly with the beat, and I just watch. I’m not a dancer or a singer—more of an observer—and I love this. She loosens up bit by bit, all evident in the slow sway of her hips. It has me itching to touch her. Especially when every few seconds her ass brushes against my legs and my very attentive cock, both of us enjoying the show.

She’s adorable when she lets go. As the music picks up pace, she spins around with her hands in the air.

“Oh come on, don’t make me the only fool here.”

And when the second chorus hits, she’s mouthing the lyrics like she knows it word for word.

“There’s definitely more than one of those here…”

When her eyes roll, I take her wrist, spin her away from me, then pull her flush against my front.