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“The war is over. What is it you think you’re protecting in that brain of yours?”
She looked up at him. “You’re a monster.” He raised an eyebrow. “Noticed that, have you?”
His fingers twitched. He almost managed to hide it by crossing his arms. “Is there really a difference between having someone die for you and killing them?”
“Who do you hate so much?” Until then, she hadn’t realised the depths of his anger. It was like the ocean that went on and on, and all its promises were death. He seemed briefly startled by the question, then his emotions vanished like a box snapped shut. “Many people,” he said with an insolent shrug. He smiled, mouth curving like a scythe. “Most of whom are dead now.”
