I flew from the bedroll where we’d been camping and whirled around, ready to attack.
On the bedding, Indigo jerked upright, and though his tired eyes widened in alarm, the nearby campfire reflecting onto his face showed how heavily ringed with sleep they still were.
The man was exhausted.
“What? What’s wrong?” he asked anyway, his voice urgent with concern. “Are you okay?”
I gaped at him, blinking rapidly, then relaxed my tensed muscles and tried to catch my breath. “I—I’m sorry,” I gushed.
“What’re you apologizing for?” Shoving his legs free of the blankets, he draped his feet over the side of the bedroll before lifting his arms and inviting me to return to him.
I did immediately, crawling onto his lap and letting him wrap his arms around me. My head landed against his sturdy heartbeat, and I lifted my hand, shifting my palm over the comforting security of his presence.
“Quilla,” he murmured, kissing the side of my bald head, his lips warm and tender against my skin. “I hope you know you can tell me anything. Absolutely one hundred percent anything. You don’t have to worry about my reaction. You don’t have to fear any consequences. You don’t have to protect me from an unpleasant truth. Whatever the case may be, conversations between us will always be a safe place—confidential and judgment-free. Even if it’s something you’re afraid I won’t like or would hurt me, I want to hear it anyway.”
“I…” I shook my head, not even sure what I wanted to say. There were so many painful, horrifying memories locked in my head. It seemed like letting them out would destroy me. I just needed to stay strong. I needed to hold them in and ignore them until they went away. That was all. I just had to stay quiet and—
“Keeping something bad inside you for too long will only make it fester and grow,” Indigo murmured, pressing his brow to my temple as if he could read my mind. “I don’t want that for you, empress.”
“But…” I glanced at him, my eyes wide and frightened.
There was just so much of it. So much darkness. So much horror. I didn’t want any of that on him. He was my pureness and light. Smiles and optimism. He couldn’t be ruined by this too.
“What happened to you does not have to control you. And you don’t have to talk now or even anytime soon, but the best thing for you would be to get all this shit out of your head and for you to take control of it by giving it a voice and talking about it.”
I blew out a long lungful of indecision. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” I asked.
He shuddered and shook his head. “No. I’m pretty certain I don’t.” Then he took my hand. “But I think you need to tell it, anyway. For your own benefit.”
“Okay.” I nodded. I could do this. The fear of it clogged my pores, making me want to stay silent, but that only ratcheted up my determination to do as he suggested. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I didn’t want it to control me. I had to conquer the fear, not give in to it.
“I—I just need to collect my thoughts a second.”
Indigo kissed my ear gently. “Take as long as you need.”
But the longer I stalled, the more the fear crowded into my lungs and made me want to still my tongue, which caused my anxiety to mount even more and remember when I’d been unable to talk.
Not wanting my words to be suffocated by anything a moment longer, I blurted, “I thought you were him. Just now. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t realize it was you. I didn’t mean to jerk away from you like that. I just—”
“Shh,” he assured, stroking my arm. “It’s me. It’s okay. Take your time. You don’t have to rush or push—”
Except now, it felt like I did. “I’m alright now,” I told him, gripping his wrist in gratitude. “I can talk.”
I would talk.
Releasing a breath, he nodded. “Okay, then. Who did you think I was?”
“Him,” I answered, momentarily squeezing my eyes shut. “Your uncle.” And then, because saying his name felt scary, I had to add, “Everett. The last few days he had me, he started sleeping next to me, pressed against me from behind.”
Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back down.
Indigo tensed. His rage and heartbreak were so palpable I could smell the steam scorching off his