In an instant Dean’s eyes went from steely to an absent, yawning black. His body shuddered, a subtle but quite visible thing and his finger tightened around the haft of his drow-made hand crossbow. “Woman, I’ll have you know that he and I are not lovers. Not even close. Never, ever, suggest such an abomination again, and you’ll be opening all the doors in the world to your future.”<br/><br/>Dean’s smile was positively grotesque. The woman’s words had clearly caught him off guard, tripped a trigger that even he was unaware of. Such was his fury that it was all too obvious that even a slight provocation, no matter how subtle, might send the man into a mad flurry of limitless rage.<br/><br/>Then, as if the moment hadn’t happened, he shrugged and lowered his arms, glancing over at Donovan. “Huh. She’s hot. I dig that. And you know I love drow. As long as they aren’t poisoning my food or killing my dogs. Let’s go.” His voice was light again, eyes clear, as he gestured up the stairs, smiling a little impishly. Either he was really worried about being stabbed in the back, or he was hoping for a view of sculpted ass.<br/><br/>Deep down, despite his nonchalance, Dean felt a wave of confusion pass through him. He was a Shadow and had no memories of the time before he’d died but *something* had just risen up, taken him over. And he did not like that. It wasn’t that he’d been out of control, rather that the emotions he’d felt had been so overwhelming that he’d had no choice except to react as he had. The handsome man frowned, his full lips creasing in consternation as he considered, eyes twitching back to Donovan, wondering if his Knight might be keeping vital information from him. Was there a deeper past than Dean knew? He found the idea unlikely, given Donovan’s kindly, honest disposition.<br/><br/>But who ever really knew anyone else?<br/>