She shakes her head. “No.” It is cold. Final. Ryon sighs, leaning away from her and dropping his hands. “My apologies. I know… I know you do not wish to hear it.” Dawsyn presses her palms into her eyes, wanting to wipe the words from her memory. “You do not love me.” Ryon stills. She can practically hear his mind whirring. “You deny me my feelings?” “I deny your assignment of them,” she says, shaking her head. “It is not love that you feel.” Ryon’s tone turns acidic. “What other name should I give this torment?”
WHAT OTHER NAME WOULD YOU GIVE THIS TORMENT
