The Enforcer and the Inspector
“Do you know what Clarke feels when she looks at you?”
Lexa almost lost her breath at the question.
Love. A deep, smoldering, love. A love with six sets of teeth, but arms of softest tenderness.
“I don’t care.” She replied instead, the nonchalance burning her inside out. “I would wager she resents me, for using her body.” The eyes squared into the psychiatrist’s, “Griffin is a latent criminal. A mad one. A fine Hound, but mad all the same. Why should I care what she thinks of me?”