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His ego was evidently bigger than his five-foot-eight-inch frame.
He chuckles, “See.” He shakes his head, his grin widening. “You’re not one of the sheep here, Red. Maybe not quite a wolf yet either…but you’re still different.”
“Words can hurt, wounds can fester, but even the most broken of bones can heal again, Red.”
His idea of fun probably involved a pickaxe, a dark forest, and prey that could talk.
“What are you?” “What do you think I would be?” A dark amused look spreads in his eyes as the other guys fall silent around us. “Major Asshole?” I reply, tapping my chin as Annex and Ezra snicker, “Patronising Prince…Harbinger of Glares…”
