My answer shuddered in a broken breath. “I can’t. I can’t.” “Why?” Because it’s too much. Because my fury petrifies me. Because the last time I got angry, I felt a man’s life wither in my hands. I opened my eyes and looked into Max’s, cloudy and blue, a reflection of my own. “Because if I allow myself to be angry, I will never stop.” He leaned closer. So close his nose brushed mine, so close I could count his eyelashes. And so close that I felt his warm breath across my face as he smiled and said, with the viciousness of smoke and steel, “Good.”
YYYYYES.
