"It's just that you spout such shit about everyone in orange being worthless scumbags, so it seems a little hypocritical to me if that's common practice amongst the Fae in uniform." "Tell me what he did to you," Cain snarled and there was a wild kind of fury in his gaze that made my heart race as he looked at me, like he would tear the fucking world down for me and would kill that son of a bitch if I said he'd laid a hand on me. But that didn't make any sense. Cain hated me. He'd more than proven it. So why did I feel like I owned him in that moment?
and i thought you didnt care?
