Lords of Wrath (Royals of Forsyth University, #2)

by Angel Lawson

“Forgive me?” “For yelling?” I ask. I don’t even need to lie. “Yes.” His eyes fall to my lips. “And for…the other thing?” I stare at him. “Do I forgive you for forcing me to undergo a micro-chipping that effectively strips away the thin veneer of freedom I’ve been clinging to for my own sanity?” Smiling, I answer. “No, and fuck you for asking.” His eyes harden. “I did it for your—” I put my fingers over his mouth, cutting him off. “I don’t want to hear any more about it being for my own good. I get to be pissed about this, Tristian. You can’t force me not to feel something and you can’t talk me into seeing whatever twisted logic is eating a hole in your brain.” I let my hand slip away, willing him to understand. “This is the part of me you can’t control. You’re just going to have to deal with it.” For a moment, I think I’m crazy for trying to reason with him at all. It’s a straight shot to more hurt and debasement. The tracker was obviously one of those things I’m not allowed to call him out on. His eyes search my face. “But I don’t like it.” Some of the tension drains from my spine at the response, spoken so plainly. “You’re free to feel that way, too. But I think if you wanted some gutless little Stepford robot as your Lady, you would have chosen someone else.”