“Neither do I,” he growled. “But when I see you, all I want is to lay claim to you. I want you to be mine and I know you never will be and it’s making me even more fucked up than I was to begin with. That’s why I hate you. Not because I’m supposed to or because my father wants me to, but because you represent every freedom I’ve never been given. It’s like you were designed entirely to taunt me and toy with me and crack me open and I won’t let it stand.” “So what do you want from me?” I demanded. “Do you want to sit up on that throne with me on my knees before you. Would that end this feud
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