I tried to harass him right now. The buzzkill.”
“It was his cousin,” I muttered, casting her a stern glance. “He just killed his cousin. To protect us. Give him a break.”
“Oh, he didn’t do anything to protect me, darling. That was all for your benefit.”
That didn’t exactly make me feel better.
I swallowed thickly, trying not to think about what he’d just done for me.
“Regardless,” I bit out. “If you don’t allow him time to process what just happened before you start in on him again with your nagging, I will hurt you, understand?”
“Hey, if the man can’t take a little razzing,” she started dramatically. “Then what good is he?”
“Just leave him the fuck alone, Melaina.”
“Fine. Jesus, you’re as bad as he is.” Huffing, she rode off to travel by herself.
Sighing, I rolled my head on my shoulders to keep from berating her. She couldn’t help it, I tried to remind myself. Her compassion had been suppressed. It physically hurt her to feel kindness or anything soft and loving.
But damn, now wasn’t a good time for her to be so her either.
Indigo was hurting.
Unable to deal with her Melaina-ness right now, I clicked my tongue and urged my horse to move past hers so I could catch up with him.
We’d been on the road for hours, not pushing our mounts to full speed but keeping the pace faster than usual. And he hadn’t spoken to either of us in all that time. He wasn’t humming or whistling that irritatingly cheerful tune of his. He wasn’t begging for details about Earth. He wasn’t trying to flirt with me.
It was all just…
Wrong.
Except I had no idea what to say once I reached him. Being raised by an empathy-challenged aunt had not equipped me with comforting skills. I usually avoided all emotion or just stuck with the safe ones like anger or irritation. Because happiness didn’t last. Sadness sucked. So did fear. And love…
Love was a fucking myth.
I think.
But Indigo seemed to find happiness no matter what. We had shackled him, taken his horse, stabbed him, cut him, threatened him, and yet he continued to smile and hum and light up from within as if he were his own source of illumination.
To see all that brightness snubbed out seemed like the worst sort of offense. The world needed exactly his kind of optimism.
And knowing it was my fault that he’d lost it made everything worse.
“I’m fine,” he said without even looking at me.
I sighed. Typical Indigo, reading my emotions and reacting to them, making sure everything was okay for me. I guess I should be relieved that at least that feature hadn’t changed about him. But it made me feel worse.
“You’re bleeding,” I said.
He glanced down at his side, where blood soaked through his ruined tunic. “It’ll heal.”
Christ.
Maudlin, two-word Indigo was almost as bad as everyday Melaina. I glanced back to scowl at my aunt—just because. And she merely rolled her eyes as if to say see what I mean.
Ignoring her, I turned back to Indigo and blurted, “I’m sorry, okay?”
That finally got his attention. Glancing at me as if I’d lost my mind, he blinked once before saying, “Sorry for what?”
“For…” I slashed a frustrated hand through the air. “I don’t know! For being a Graykey. For being your true love. For—for being the reason you had to kill your own fucking cousin today. I’m just sorry. It’s all my fault. And I—I—If I hadn’t—”
Reaching out, Indigo rendered me silent by simply catching a piece of my hair and running it gently between his fingers. “None of this was your fault.”
“But I could’ve sided with you when you suggested we take the ferry to Moore instead of the canyon pass. Or I could've—”
He shook his head, silencing me as he dropped my hair and set his hand on his thigh. “You’re not at fault,” he repeated. “And there’s no reason to feel guilty or sorry. Hell, I’m not even sorry. I didn’t have to kill him. I wanted to. The moment he lifted that knife, intent to take your life, I wanted him dead. He was my cousin, I did like him, and I mourn the loss, but he made the wrong choice, and I don’t regret defending you. Not ever.”
I opened my mouth as if I should argue that point, but I didn’t know what to say.
Indigo kept talking. “I’m not sorry you’re my true love, either,” he told me. “I think the mark was spot on when it targeted you. You’re