I gaped at him. “I don’t love Zayne.”

He quirked a brow. “My bad.”

“I don’t,” I repeated, heart thundering for some reason. “I care about him. That’s all.”

Roth shrugged. “Still. The question remains. Have you forgotten what this coven did?”

The breath I took went nowhere as I curled my hands into fists. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then I’m sure you also haven’t forgotten that because of that, Layla was injured, and Zayne, the Warden you’re not in love with but care about, nearly died.”

“Of course not.” My heart rate kicked up as the image of an injured Zayne formed in my mind. I would never forget the smell of his charred flesh.

“And how did Zayne not die?” he asked.

“He didn’t tell you?” I didn’t know how much Roth and Layla knew about Zayne’s new super status.

“It was your father, wasn’t it?”

I didn’t answer.

A beat of silence passed as Roth stared out the windshield. “Zayne’s your Protector now, isn’t he? Bonded and true.”

I had no idea if that was just a good or an obvious guess, or if Roth knew something I didn’t, but my palms grew sweaty against my knees. “He is,” I said. “It was...meant to be.”

“Was it?”

I let go of my knees. I didn’t want to tell him what my father had said and what Matthew had confirmed about Layla and I.

“It was,” I repeated.

Roth’s gaze flicked to mine. “If your father hadn’t decided to bond Zayne to you, he would be dead right now. Layla would be devastated, and I’m damn sure you would feel just as torn up or even worse.” A pause. “Even though you only care about him.”

I ignored that, because I was lost in the moment of imagining losing both Zayne and Misha. I wasn’t sure I could have recovered.

“They betrayed us, Trinity, and they betrayed us knowing what the consequences would be. Yes, I want my familiar back, but I also want them to pay,” he continued. “And I know you do, too. I can smell the rage in you. It reminds me of cayenne pepper. You want to make them pay, too, and, Angel Face, sometimes an eye for an eye is the right thing to do.”

Dragging my gaze from his, I looked out the window. I saw nothing but a blur of gray across the street, but even if my vision had been crystal clear, I doubted I’d have seen anything at that moment. I tried to push down the anger the demon could smell, but it was no use. The rage tangled with my grace, burning me from the inside out, demanding to be used...or fed.

It wanted out, that rage. It hadn’t ended with putting Misha down. It had started there.