“I’m not going to kill you, Human. I’m not going to kill your grandmother, either, or speak your real names in the way required to enslave you,” Cress said. “There’s no point now. Killing you will only prolong my suffering anyway with how preposterously wrong everything has gone since we met.” His hand softened back to flesh, and he shook her wrist until the butterknife fell onto the carpet. “So, stop trying to stab me with everything.”
