Grayson.
Of all people to be standing right in front of me when I'm two seconds away from exploding, it just had to be Jace asshole Norman.
'f*****g Perfect.'
He's standing there in a purple and black Silver Wolves jacket like he owns the place or something. His eyes light up as he sees my scowl, enjoying the effect he has on me.
"What do you want, Norman?" Brandon asks, his voice tight.
But Jace just ignores him. "Shouldn't you, Captain of the great and mighty 'Fallen' Knights," he places emphasis on the fallen, "be practicing, trying to defend your 'legacy'?"
My fists clench, jaw tightening. Brandon turns to me. "Ignore him, let's just get out of here."
I run a hand through my hair and get up, smoothing my leather jacket, Brandon following.
"All right," Jace continues as I brush
