Dorian's hand closed around my wrist before I could take the phone.
"Sera."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine, you don't have to—"
"He's my father." I looked at him. "I'm taking the call."
He let go of my wrist without a word, but he didn't step back. He stayed close, close enough that whatever came through that phone, he'd hear it too.
I took the receiver.
"Hello."
"Seraphina." The voice was older than I expected, warm in a way that landed completely wrong, like a smile painted onto something that didn't have a face underneath it. "You sound just like your mother."
The familiarity disgusted me instantly. "Who is this." I asked as if I didn't already know.
"You know who this is. Dorian's told you by now, I imagine, he doesn't waste time, that's one thing I'll credit him." A pause, almo
