Rhys gave no warning as he gripped my arm, snarling softly, and tore off my glove. His touch was like a brand, and I flinched, yielding a step, but he held firm until he'd gotten both gloves off. I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no. I didn't say anything. He turned my bare hand over, his hold tightening as he examined the eye he'd tattooed. He tapped the pupil. Once. Twice. I heard it loud and clear.
~ Sarah J. Maas