“Who is the Priest?”

“You mustn’t talk about him. You must never talk about him.”

“Who is the Priest?” His voice became dangerously soft.

“The tea,” she said weakly.

Daemon poured two cups of tea. Returning to the table, he crossed his legs and steepled his fingers. “Now.”

Manny lifted the cup to her lips but found the tea too hot to drink. She set the cup down again, fussing with its handle until it was exactly parallel to the edge of the table. Finally she dropped her hands in her lap and sighed.

“They never should have taken you away from him,” she said quietly, looking at memories. “They never should have broken the contract. The Hourglass coven in Hayll has been failing since then, just like he said it would. No one breaks a contract with the Priest and survives.

“You were supposed to go to him for good that day, the day you got your Birthright Jewel. You were so proud that he was going to be there, even though the Birthright Ceremony was in the afternoon instead of evening like it usually is. They planned it that way, planned to make him come in the harshest light of day, when his strength would be at its lowest.

“After you had your Birthright Red Jewel and were standing with your mother and Dorothea and all of Dorothea’s escorts, waiting for the okay to walk out of the ceremonial circle to where he was waiting and kneel to him in service…that’s when that woman, that cruel, scheming woman said you belonged to the Hourglass, that paternity was denied, that he couldn’t have sired you, that she’d had her guards service the Dhemlan witch afterward to ensure she was seeded. It was a warm afternoon, but it got so cold, so awfully cold. Dorothea had all the Hourglass covens there, dozens and dozens of Black Widows, watching him, waiting for him to walk into the circle and break honor with them.

“But he didn’t. He turned away.

“You almost broke free. Almost reached him. You were crying, screaming for him to wait for you, fighting the two guards who were holding your arms, your fingers clenched around that Jewel. There was a flash of Red light, and the guards were flung backward. You hurled yourself forward, trying to reach the edge of the circle. He turned, waiting. One of the guards tackled you. You were only a handspan away from the edge. I think if so much as a finger had crossed that circle, he would have swept you away with him, wouldn’t have worried anymore if it was good for you to live with him, or to live without your people.

“You didn’t make it. You were too young, and they were too strong.

“So he left. Went to that house you keep visiting, the house you and your mother lived in, and destroyed the study. Tore the books apart, shredded the curtains, broke every piece of furniture in the room. He couldn’t get the rage out. When I finally dared open the door, he was kneeling in the middle of the room, his chest heaving, trying to get some air, a crazy look in his eyes.