“I’m going to break every bone in your body.” Reaver rose slowly. There wasn’t even one godsdamn bruise forming on the fucker’s face. “No, you’re not.” “And when I’m done doing that,” I said, my voice a guttural scratch against my throat, full of frostbitten wrath, “I’m going to rip your hands off.” He stepped to the side just a few inches. “That’s not going to happen either.” I stalked toward him, the tips of my fingers stinging. “Then I’m going to beat you with your own fucking hands.” Reaver raised a brow, his lips moving silently as he repeated what I said. He chuckled. “That’s actually
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