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did have its benefits, it seems.” His words
rang flat, even as an edge sharpened inside
him.
Her gaze drifted to his throat, to the pale
line across it. He could almost feel her stare
like a phantom touch.
“You still hate him.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Am I not supposed
to?”
Her moon-white hair gleamed in the dim
light. “You told me he was human. Deep
down, he’d remained human, and tried to
protect you as best he could. Yet you hate
him.”
“You’ll forgive me if I find his methods of
protecting me to be unpalatable.”
“But it was the demon, not the man, who
killed your healer.”
Dorian clenched his jaw. “It makes no
difference.”