“You're overstepping.' My nails bite into my palms. 'You haven't begun to see overstepping,' he warns, hid voice dropping low, sending a shiver down my spine. 'Any threat against you is a threat against me, and as we've already established, I have more important things to do than sleep on your floor.' Heat flushes up my neck and stains my cheeks. 'He is not sleeping in my room.' 'Of course not.' He freaking smirks, and my traitorous stomach dips. 'I had him moved into the one next to yours. Wouldn't want to overstep.”
Book:Fourth Wing