"Who attacked her, Rosalie," he said, out of patience before the conversation had begun. "I did. Interestingly enough, she seems to think that that she brought what happened to her on herself, and she said that you and Daniel had told her so. She said you told her she was too affectionate, that clearly all she wanted was sex. Apparently that means that when someone forces themselves on her, it's her fault."
He stepped towards her. "What was it that you said, exactly? What did you and Daniel tell her that made her think she was an object who deserved to be fucking drugged and raped?" He seemed ready to go on but pulled back, shook his head, shoulders tensed in a distinctly lupine way, hackles raised. "I don't care what you think about her. I intend to find out who did this, and if you have any idea whatsoever you will tell me. Now."