The kinship with Sabrina was something Killian held near and dear to his splotchy dark heart as well, a heart that was a creaky, hollow mass eroded by sea salt. He previously thought no one could pry obsession and vengeance from that heart, not even Emma. But now here he was and - he'd given up the darkness, despite the parts of him had coveted that power. A thirst for power drove all Dark Ones, they could never seem to get enough - an addiction to magic, and this was the most dangerous kind.
But he also knew he'd up miserable alone if he didn't curb it. So he took his hard pill and swallowed it - though there were still plenty of aspects he struggled with. That was to be expected.
"Hopefully some salmon ought to soothe any ruffled fur," he said, heading over to scoop cookie dough balls onto the sheet - you could use an ice cream scoop, he thought that worked well, and he only needed one hand anyway. "Baking for the masses is good of you though, love. I think everyone's feeling a little down after Bugland anyway. That was rather rude of the hotel."