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shouting. "I swear, sometimes it's just like you want to hear yourself talk! And I know you're<br />
not always this way. You were perfectly normal when you talked to Tasha. But with me?<br />
You're just going through the motions. You don't care about me. You're just stuck in your<br />
stupid mentor role."<br />
He stared at me, uncharacteristically surprised. "I don't care about you?"<br />
"No." I was being petty—very, very petty. And I knew the truth—that he did care and was<br />
more than just a mentor. I couldn't help myself, though. It just kept coming and coming. I<br />
jabbed his chest with my finger. "I'm another student to you. You just go on and on with your<br />
stupid life lessons so that—"<br />
The hand I'd hoped would touch my hair suddenly reached out and grabbed my pointing hand.<br />
He pinned it to the wall, and I was surprised to see a flare of emotion in his eyes. It wasn't<br />
exactly anger…but it was frustration of another kind.<br />
"Don't tell me what I'm feeling," he growled.<br />
I saw then that half of what I'd said was true. He was almost always calm, always in control—<br />
even when fighting. But he'd also told me how he'd once snapped and beaten up his Moroi<br />
father. He'd actually been like me once—always on the verge of acting without thinking, doing<br />
things he knew he shouldn't.<br />
"That's it, isn't it?" I asked.<br />
"What?"<br />
"You're always fighting for control. You're the same as me."<br />
"No," he said, still obviously worked up. "I've learned my control."<br />
Something about this new realization emboldened me. "No," I informed him. "You haven't.<br />
You put on a good face, and most of the time you do stay in control. But sometimes you can't.<br />
And sometimes …" I leaned forward, lowering my voice. "Sometimes you don't want to."<br />
"Rose…"
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