DARRAGH'S POV
The words hung on my tongue for a moment too long. Ciara sat across from me, fingers drumming against her knee, eyes fixed on the hotel window where the morning sun streaked the glass. That hollow look in her gaze—like she was bracing for another blow—made the decision for me.
"Saraphina's mother," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Riona Maychild."
Ciara went perfectly still. Only her chest moved with a sharp intake of breath that escaped as a slow hiss between her teeth. Two rapid blinks, and something hardened in her expression.
"Of course." The words scraped from her throat as if each one cut on the way out. "Of course." Her knuckles whitened around the edge of the armchair. "I've had this feeling about your cousin."
I crossed the room in two strides. "Don't g
