The color drained from Kvothe's face and his eyes turned nearly black as he balled his fists at his sides. Although he knew no ways to express it as Harry did, the power grew around him, hot and dark and angry.
"You...you saw inside me like I saw inside you? You...force me - you - " For one of the very few times in Kvothe's life, words completely failed him. He wanted to kill him, wanted to tear his eyes out so that would be the last thing he ever saw. How dare he. How dare he go rooting around in his soul, sifting casually through those dark and destructive memories that he wouldn't even let Denna see. They were his memories, it was his mind, and he didn't have any right, he didn't have any...
With a graceful movement so controlled that his anger was practically dripping from it, he bent to pick up his shirt and pulled it on over his taut muscles. Every inch of him was quivering with a barely hidden fury.
"How dare you," he said, in a voice so low and cold that it almost gave the ears frostbite. "How dare you look at my memories, at my life, without my permission. How dare you look in my mind. In my soul. You say you won't teach me, you say I'm too dark. That I'm going against the laws of magic. Well, what did you just do to me? Those memories, those things you saw, whatever they were? They were mine. And mine alone. I didn't tell you that you could see them. But you wanted it, so you took it. Against my will. And that somehow falls inside your damned laws of magic? To hell with them, all of them. You're a hypocrite. At least Elodin isn't that."