“Hell, I was her demon. And now I was wiping her tears and holding her close. I was no saint. I was the darkness that chased her. I was what haunted her dreams, I was her nightmare, and yet she held me like I was the knight that had ridden in on my white horse – she was right about one thing – the horse was white, but the knight was no servant to the king – he was fallen, and she’d singlehandedly resurrected him, not realizing something was very wrong.”
