"You might've asked!" Adam said, but the initial defensive flare of anger had tempered into a steely, temperamental determination. "You might have asked what I wanted, what makes me happy, who I was in love with. You acted like you expected me to cross the void and reveal my secrets to you, as if that wouldn't put my position and my life in danger, as if there was any hope for me to be your equal." He spat the word, aching with bitterness. "Do you have any idea what you're offering? What you're asking? How different it would be if I behaved like your equal rather than your obedient dog? Because that's what I want. I want an equal place at your side. I want a quiet life in the country where no one hits me or spits insults at me. I want enough to eat and to never again be cold and exhausted for days on end. I want to believe that you could love me for me, not just the version of me that dreads being left behind by you. Again. You... you fucking prick."

Starting to shake, Adam sat back down on the bed, hugging himself and feeling sick with the familiar dread that he'd known all his life, that Ronan would leave, that the household would cast him out, and that he'd be left with nothing but hunger and cruelty.