Book Five, Chapter 88: The Soldier
"You sure you're up for this?" Riley asked.
Was he talking down to me? Why wouldn't he be? Everyone was doing that nowadays. Maybe they were patronizing. Maybe they were empathizing. All the same to me.
"I know what to do," I said firmly.
I should never have told them that I dropped my subplot. Riley explained it away—he said that because any one of us had the chance to be the main character in this story, our subplots were larger than usual, so they needed more time devoted to them. Normally, I would have had plenty of room to put off following my character's plot, but not in this storyline.
I didn't want to hear that.
Maybe somebody else would want to hear how nothing is ever their fault, but not me.
I should have known. It was on me. Everybody joined in with him and cooed at me like I was a baby, telling me that they had things taken care of, telling me that being a blood sacrifice was as important as anything that could have happened in my subplot.
Yeah, right.
I've never worked that way. I want somebody who tells me when I mess up and who holds me to the highest standard. Logan always did that. He would never let me settle for anything less than my best.