Samantha knew, to an extent, how improper his current state of comforting her would have been in his time. Later, she would appreciate the effort on his part, but for now the blonde woman was content to just curl her body into his and clutch at him. He was such a comfort to her, the girl feeling better from his presence. And of course, knowing that his sword was near made her feel a lot better. She appreciated his embrace, and it was that alone that calmed her down just enough to be able to blurt out what was bothering her. She hadn't wanted him to know about this. She hadn't wanted him to know that she was in danger, and that he was as well simply by his association with her. But with what Frost had told her, how could she not tell him? She was his Queen, and she was assured that that meant that she owed it to him to protect him.

She had never elaborated to him that she wasn't born what she was before, and truly she expected that he - given his breeding - might have thought less of her in the same way the girls at the burlesque did. There was such a difference in the minds of older fae that those who were created were somehow less. She knew it wasn't true, and had even been assured by younger fae that it wasn't true, and yet it didn't make her feel any better to know that her best friend in the world might think she was less. She saw the frown on his features, though it took her several moments to realize it was meant more at her words than the notion that she wasn't born fae. She shook her head after a moment, a shrug lifting on her shoulders. She sat back, wiping at her eyes though she kept herself close enough that she could grab at him at the very notion that the tears threatened to take her again.

"I don't know why they're killing. They're dangerous. They loved hearing me scream in the week that they tortured me. I think... that they know this is my jurisdiction now. They know that I'm the Queen here now. They want to get to me, make me scared. It's... working." She swallowed, looking up at him. The confident, happy girl that she so often regarded him with was left as a shaking, trembling mess. She shook her head at the mention of the police. "No, and I won't," She commented softly. "They... the human police... they know of the supernaturals in the city, but I don't think they'll help me. They... they help humans. Not me. I'm not a human anymore."

She shivered, moving to lean against him once more, though she didn't force him to embrace her again. She wanted to be near him, wanted to know that he was here to protect her. "You're the only person I've told. I can't... tell Aiden about it. I..." She shook her head. She remembered Frost's warnings, that he did dealings with faeries. She truly didn't believe he would be involved in hurting her, but she could never be too careful. She let out a rough breath. "A friend of mine who works for the Hunter's council told me. He saw their file on the desk of one of the Hunters and wanted to make sure I knew."

At the mention of his sword, she nodded firmly. "Yes. I... I asked for a weapon from a friend of mine, but I... I couldn't take the iron weapon. The idea of having that in my house..." She shook her head. What if she had accidentally hurt herself? What if Dorian got too curious? "I couldn't think about killing someone. But... I need to know how to protect myself." She looked up into those grey eyes of his. "I... I know you've resented me for saying you need to stay inside as much as possible. B... but this is why. You're in danger just because of your association with me."