Qeya River Await the love that I call trouble

One of the things Taikon had suspected of Aphrodite was an empathetic ability to know others. This was something he had assumed when she had been able to feel so vulnerable to him when they had met. Now, he knew this was the case because she launched into assuring him that her family wouldn't hurt him. Unless she had spoken to Takiyok, which wasn't impossible in the days they had spent apart, Taikon was sure he hadn't told her anything other than his distaste.
Involuntarily, his hackles and backside hairs rose as she asked what had happened. He didn't know if he could say. He felt pressed to, for he knew a secret perhaps as cruel. He wasn't sure. Mentally, he started to compare their scenarios and felt an urge to vomit, so breathed heavily instead, shaking his head to rid himself of these emotions and thoughts.
It doesn't really matter. My family wronged me in an unforgivable way. Beyond that, from my experience there is always a power structure that is organized in such a way that others are kept powerless. All packs have this to some extent, and I don't want to walk into another situation where that dic— here he stopped himself from saying dictatorship. Where that structure doesn't work for me.
Taikon couldn't tell her what happened. Not now. He licked his lips, which were quite dry. His saliva felt thick.
Men weren't supposed to show emotions. He didn't like it. But she seemed weirdly safe. I guess I'm worried, he relented, gazing at her, waiting for her to call him an idiot or some other name.