Page 95 of The Bonds of Indigo

He goes still. One arm secured under my breasts, the other hooked around my collarbone, locking me in place. Fighting him is useless—his strength dwarfs mine, even replenished as I am.

“The Werewolf…” he murmurs.

“I… was protecting Atlas.”

His breath ghosts over my ear. “At the gate.”

“I was protecting you.” My voice cracks. “And at the train, I was protecting them.”

“You didn’t miss that shot.”

I shake my head. “I never miss. I was firing to protect myself…” A shaky breath trembles out of me. “Please let me go.”

He doesn’t.

Of course he doesn’t.

He tightens his hold instead… and it’s torture, because it’s exactly what I want, but exactly what I need him not to do.

“Yes or no,” he demands quietly. “Did you kill them? Any of them.”

“No.” The word comes fast—too fast—and I rush the rest before he can twist it. “But it doesn’t matter⁠—”

“Yes, it does.”

“It doesn’t, because we can’t go back.” My voice breaks on the edge of a bitter laugh. “I have the scars to remind me I failed to stop what was inevitable. But what I want to know is—” I tilt my head just enough to throw the question over my shoulder, sharp and poisonous. “Why do you care?”

His forehead drops to my shoulder with a heavy exhale. One so raw and sad my chest constricts. It almost makes me want to take the words back.

Almost.

“Let me rephrase…” My voice comes out low, slightly angered. “Do they bother you?”

“What?” His response is a mix of bewilderment and frustration. “No—I mean, yes, but only because you shouldn’t have had to suffer like that.”

“But I already did.” I drop my head forward. “And what would erasing them do, Butcher? What would taking them away even accomplish for me?”

“Don’t call me that…”

His grip slackens, and I slip from his arms, wading deeper until the water reaches my bellybutton. “Vampires and Demons heal all wounds. I once could too. But why should I want that now?”

I finally turn to face him fully.

“What difference do invisible scars make compared to the ones you can see? I still suffered. Whether you can see them or not.”

His gaze lifts to mine, and the sadness there… Gods, it digs under my skin, right into my ribs. Right into the softest parts of me. I feel it through the bond—his hurt, his helplessness, his anger on my behalf. He’s a brute, a killer, a force of will and violence… but right now, he looks like a man trying not to break.

And as the realization settles in, heavy and unwelcome, I understand something I shouldn’t: I don’t want to hurt Kayn Butcher.

I never wanted to.

It’s why the bond terrifies me. It’s why I need it severed… even if Vendra has already denied me such a thing.

I smile—small, genuine, and soft in a way I rarely allow.

“I’ve pushed you away, so I don’t expect you to understand me. You don’t need to concern yourself over what you can’t fix. I don’t want you to.”

“Amarah—”