“I was his mistress. I loved him. I still do. That is no lie. And then your mother had to go and ruin him. But, no. I am no longer the mistress of any man—mortal or god.” “God?” I coughed out. “Malec was—” “A god,” Isbeth cut me off. “He was Nyktos’s son, and Nyktos is no normal god. He is a Primal, something far older and more powerful,” she said, and I knew that part to be true. “Any that carry his blood would be a god. But Eloana never knew that, did she? I did. I knew exactly who and what he was. A deity cannot make a vampry, and neither can a god.”
