“How many people have you killed?” I asked quietly. A beat passed before his eyes flashed. “A lot,” he said gruffly. That knot returned with a vengeance in my stomach, and my heart pounded rapidly in my chest. “How… how many is a lot?” Sebastian’s wings flexed, and the silence stretched between us. In another part of the inn, someone moaned. “I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.
“how old are you?” “17” “how long have you been 17?” “a while”
