I stared at him. "Dain? With an army, right?" I asked, sounding very far away with my ears almost ringing from the realization that he had never said any such thing.

I killed every man, woman, and child in it.

What does it say about me that I could still kill them all?

He didn't say anything.

My knees buckled and I hit the floor, landing on my ass and staring up at Dain, who started laughing, sharp and bitter, his eyes closed and his face tight.

"And you wonder why I can't say it?" he asked, his voice taking on that old edge of cruelty, sharpening his rich voice into a weapon. "You wonder why I call myself a monster?"

I didn't hesitate. I braced myself with my hands, and kicked his legs out from under him.

Dain had his eyes closed, he was leaning against the wall, and he wasn't expecting an attack. He fucking yelped as he came down like Jenga tower, all however-many pounds of him slamming into the ground like a sack of bricks. He whacked one of his wing-elbows hard enough that he practically levitated off of it, ending up tangled on the ground as he fixed me with a truly thunderous glare. "What the fuck was that for!"

One of the guards had a mysterious coughing fit. Another didn't even bother, and started openly laughing.

I pinned him with my own thunderous glare. "For being an asshole!" I snapped. "You don't get to be nasty when you've danced around the fact that you, personally, wiped out a whole city, and then yanked the rug out from under me about it!"

His face twisted, and he looked away, rubbing his wing-elbow.

I booted him on the leg again, and he snapped his angry gaze at me. I recognized that expression. I'd seen it that first day in the garden, the agony beneath the rage. So I let go of wanting to punch him in his stupid face, and instead scooted over to him and leaned against him, plopping my head against his shoulder. "Stop trying to scare me off. You're better than this."

Dain went stiff when I leaned against him, but a moment later he put his arms around me, shoving himself to the side so he could lean on the wall again and drag me onto his lap. He put his nose against my neck almost sullenly, then shuddered. "...You're not afraid," he mumbled against my skin.

"Gold star," I said, still rather exasperated with him. "Shock isn't the same thing as fear."

He clung to me, his knees coming up as if he might curl around me, pressing me hard against his chest. "You're not afraid," he said again, his voice tight. "Why aren't you afraid?"