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So, this was it.

My hand hovered over the handle. What was I going to see when I pushed this door open? Was this my mother’s room? Would she be there waiting on the other side? Heart pounding, I turned the knob.

The room was smaller than I’d been expecting, which made sense as it looked like it was some kind of a study or office. A tall narrow window on the far wall let in light. A heavy desk of white marble sat in the center. Behind the desk sat High Priestess Hallowyn. She was older than I remembered, but then, I hadn’t been attending the Sanctum very regularly the past few years, and Hallowyn only really made appearances at services a few times a year. Her white robes were edged in crimson. Silver hair fell in a long braid behind her back. Her pale violet eyes glittered with a hard expression.

“What do you think you are doing here? Get out at once,” she barked.

Instead of answering, I shut the door behind me and crossed over to the desk where I dropped into the chair opposite her without asking for permission. Sometime between my standing out in the hall and entering the room, Neville had disappeared.

“Let’s save time and skip the introductions. You know who I am. I’m here for answers,” I said flatly. “I’d say they’re long overdue.”

Her lips thinned. “A prince of your house you may be, Blake Drakharrow, but in the Bloodmaiden’s own Sanctum you have no sway. This is a sacred house. I did not sanction this audience. Now, you should leave before—”

“No,” I interrupted. I leaned forward, bracing my arms on the desk. “I’m not leaving. And no one is coming to help you.” I bared my fangs. She was a highblood, like me. She could move quickly. Maybe she’d even make it to the door, but she wouldn’t make it to the hall. And if she tried, she’d lose some of her precious dignity. I pictured tackling the high priestess. It would be awkward. Really awkward. But I’d fucking do it if I had to.

To my surprise, she didn’t run, nor did she scream. “You should discuss any questions you have with your uncle,” she said curtly.

I laughed. “Yeah, well, that’s a problem. Because dear old Uncle Viktor is gone. What’s that rural blightborn expression? He’s flown the coop. You know exactly what he did. Did you already know he had that kind of power?”

Her gaze flickered. “Of course not.” She was lying. And there was something else there behind her eyes. Something she was trying to hide. The reason she wasn’t trying to reach the door. The reason she wasn’t bothering to scream.

“You know it wasn’t Viktor who attacked Veilmar that night,” I said softly.

Hallowyn flinched. “What are you talking about?”

“You know. Which means you were watching that night. You know Viktor well enough to know what his dragon looks like.” I leaned back and gave a bitter laugh. “Seems to me like you know an awful fucking lot. So you know about me. In that case, I don’t think I need to explain how dangerous that makes me to you.”

She swallowed. “What do you want to know?”

“I’m done being lied to. I want to know everything.”

She straightened up. “If this is about your mother—”

“Of course it’s about my mother. You’re going to tell me where she is.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m afraid I’m not authorized to discuss Desdemona Drakharrow.”

Something inside me snapped. I stood up. “I’m authorizing it. You will tell me where my mother is right now. Or I’ll do to your Sanctum what I did to Veilmar that night.”

She stared up at me. “You’re insane.” But I could see she’d realized the threat was real.

I chuckled. “Priestess, I’ll tell you a little secret. Viktor Drak-harrow commanded me to do what I did to Veilmar that night. I didn’t want to do it, and I would have stopped myself if I’d been able to. But laying this white marble travesty of a temple to waste with dragon flame? Now, that would be a fucking delight. So yeah, maybe I am a little insane. Or maybe I’m just a blooddamned Drak-harrow. Now, tell me where the fuck my mother is, because I’m done asking politely.”

Her shoulders sagged, and I knew I was going to get what I needed. “She is not in the Sanctum.”

“Then, where is she?” I demanded. “If you tell me again that you’re not authorized, I swear to—” I stopped, suddenly realizing what I was doing—threatening an unarmed woman. But not just any woman, a priestess of the Bloodmaiden. To lay a hand on a woman who served in the temple was not only sacrilege but a capital offense.

I stared down at the older highblood. I didn’t know much about Hallowyn. I didn’t even know her last name. Women gave up their family names and house affiliations when they made their vows. But I knew she must have come from a noble family. High priestesses were always selected from the noblest bloodlines. Her family may have given her to the Sanctum. Or perhaps she’d volunteered. She would have taken her vows young, when she’d been hardly more than a girl. The very fact that she was here meant she was loyal to Sangratha and extremely devout.

Then I thought of the girl who’d been murdered in the Adoration Rite, and suddenly the high priestess didn’t seem so innocent after all. My heart hardened. Devout or not, she was ruthless. She was highblood. In her own way, she was just as much of a monster as I was.

“Tell me what I want to know,” I said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I will.”

The priestess’s mouth quivered. “You presume a great deal being here.”

“I presume I have the right to the truth,” I shot back. “You should be grateful I waited this long to demand it. Now, tell me. Is my mother dead?”

She hesitated.