If I were ordinary, the sound of his voice alone would have sent me running, not considering the anger and, dare I say, hatred that was laced with it.
But I wasn’t ordinary. My skin was tougher than the bark of an oak tree, and no amount of venom in his voice could break me.
Instead, I straightened up, holding out his food. “I brought you breakfast,” I said firmly, and I stared at his eyes, refusing to back down.
His eyes were a pale autumn green, the kind leaves take before turning brown and despite everything, I wanted to drown in them.
“Were you not schooled?” He asked in a voice that was neither cold nor hot. I was unsure if he was angry or even amused. But my brows ticked at the words he had used.
“Schooled? ” My voice pitched higher, anger pooling low in my stomach. “Excuse me?”
