“No,” Dastan said as he sat across from me. I attempted to stand up with that verbal slap in the face, but Con held me down and froze there.
“You have to try,” Mr. Wilde insisted. Dastan threw his hands down on the table and it snapped in half.
“I’ve been trying this entire time!” he roared and then stood to storm out. No matter the fear I felt in every inch of my body, I followed him and grabbed his hand. He jerked it out of my touch and spun to face me in rage as if he’d lash out at me, but then his golden eyes softened and he relaxed. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He reached out to grab me once more, but didn’t make contact. Instead, he stepped around me and walked back over to the couch, Mr. Wilde studying his every move.
“I feel better,” Dastan expressed.
“It’s because
