It was the kind of talk that managed to actually stir a reaction that wasn't hiding out of Samandriel. "And then what?" he asked firmly. "I went up against a vampire for what he did to a slave and lost my grace for my troubles. Do you really think I want to see you in the same position? Do you think I need to feel responsible for that too? Do you want to take even the slightest chance of him," he gestured to the demon, "having to try to help you put yourself back together when you realize you aren't even a shadow of what you once were? Because I'm not okay with that and since what happened was done to me and not you, I think I get a say in where it goes from here."
He hadn't felt anger in days. Not like this. It was refreshing. It felt good to throw off whatever it was that was crushing him even if he was taking it out on a sister who didn't deserve it. "What happened was my fault," he said, standing up and nearly holding his ground though he knew he'd buckle in the face of any anger returned at him. "I fucked up. I shouldn't have gone out without an escort and I should've known better than to even try to resist him. I'm nothing here. I'm weak and powerless and and human. And I sure as hell haven't done anything to deserve coming home to someone who apparently actually cares about me and I really doubt that's something that I'll get to keep enjoying anyway."