Kaya's chest heaved as she snapped back, her voice sharp and trembling, "At least let me speak! You're just talking and talking—this, that, everything! How am I supposed to answer if you won't even let me breathe? If you'd let me speak, I would have answered!"
Veer's face twisted. His jaw ground like someone trying to stop a storm. In one swift movement he closed on her arm—wrist in a grip so tight Kaya tasted iron. Pain flared through her forearm.
"You don't understand human language, do you?" he hissed, eyes hard as flint. "Then I'll speak the only way you get."
He yanked, trying to drag her toward the doorway. Kaya twisted, trying to free herself. "Let go. Are you crazy?" she spat.
"Yes," he snapped, voice low and dangerous. "I have gone crazy — and I will do what I want." He pulled harder.
