“Say it,” Rafael murmured, his eyes glittering like broken glass in the low light.

Solene stood in the doorway, heart slamming against her ribs. “Say what?”

“That you feel it.” His smile was slow, deliberate. “The blood. The tether. That no matter how many names you’ve stolen, you were always mine first.”

Her blade was already in her hand. The distance between them twelve steps felt both too close and endless.

“You’re not my father.” The words scraped out of her ...