His words were slow, deliberate. "You think fucking her into a mattress makes you untouchable? That every time she moans your name means she's yours forever? Maybe it just means she's addicted to the chaos you bring. But it doesn't mean she chooses you."
My jaw clenched so hard it clicked. I could hear my blood in my ears.
"And I listen to her," he went on, voice dipping into something smug. "I talk to her. I know how she takes her coffee. I know what she tv shows she likes. I know her laugh when she's not watching herself. But you? You only know how to make her obedient."
A snarl clawed up my throat and I stepped in, chest nearly brushing his. "You think you're a fucking savior?" I hissed. "You're a convenient toy. A pathetic little stand-in she uses to distract herself when I'm not there. You're nothing, Sylas."
