I hated Roman so f*****g much.
I didn’t hate the way he had thrown me to the ground yesterday. I didn’t hate the way he’d forced himself down my throat. I didn’t hate the way he’d ripped my clothes off and demanded I do anything he wanted.
But this man had the nerve to tell me I sucked at fighting. Everyone knew that he put me through hell during each practice while they didn’t even have to try. Nobody—nobody—from my class would dare challenge me to a fight.
nobody—I threw my gym bag down next to the pack house and angrily fumbled through the contents to find whatever I needed—I couldn’t even remember anymore.
He did it to get on my nerves, to break my will. His job was to keep his pack in place, and he knew exactly what to do to make me bend to his command. Challenge my fighting skill
