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Insy’s conversation about this place rushes back to me, and I dig my heels in, tugging against Corvin. He twists toward me. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t go in there,” I state. “It’s where… you go to find your mate, and use toys on them. I’ve heard about this place.”

He laughs, a grin widening his lips, appearing almost delighted. “It’s also a bar, a dance hall, and hundreds of other things. Let me show you.”

I blink at him, realizing we’ve come this far, and it’s not as if I could even find my way back to the compound on my own. And I remind myself that tomorrow I can give Insy a rundown of exactly what this place is like, seeing as she so desperately wants to attend.

“Fine,” I say. “But we don’t need to stay too long.”

He grins at me and leads me right toward the guard at the door, who has hooves and a tail as well as long horns. Corvin whispers to the monster, then puts something in his hand, and we’re waved inside while the others in line groan.

Music thumps through me the moment we step inside, a fast beat that echoes in my ears. The walls are black with golden wings drawn everywhere. Corvin, still holding my hand, guides us into the club, and we emerge into an enormous room with pulsing lights and a dance floor. Around the edges are seats and tables, along with a bar. Except, I don’t see anyone using toys on each other as Insy had said.

The barn dances in the village were horribly boring compared to this.

Here, monsters fill the room, and I notice a beautiful red-haired woman, taller than even Corvin, with two heads, and she has most men staring after her. Corvin is glancing at me, watching my excitement.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I had no idea what to expect, but this is incredible.”

“Good,” he murmurs. “Let’s get a seat.” He leads me past the bar to a line of chairs and tables facing the dance floor. I slip into one, thankful to be off my feet. “What will you have to drink?” he asks.

“Water would be nice,” I say.

“Pretty sure they don’t serve that here,” he says, smirking. “I’ll get you something that’s non-potent.”

“If that means nonalcoholic, then yes.”

With a grin, he strolls toward the bar. I eye him, the muscles in his back shifting with each movement, and I don’t miss the two females walking past him, then doing a double take in his direction.

I don’t care if they want to drool over him. He’s not mine. Yet I can’t stop staring at him as he talks to the bartender, who has four arms.

Just then, someone steps into my view, and it takes me a moment to realize a man with long spider legs stands in front of me, saying something that sounds more like water splashing.

I freeze all over when he extends a dark spider limb toward me with insect-like joints. Stiff bristles sparsely cover its length.

I scream and scramble backward, almost falling out of my chair.

Corvin’s there in seconds and hauls the monster away from me. They chat for a short moment, then he picks up our drinks from the bar and returns. “The Bistous simply asked if you wanted a massage.”

“Hell no! I can’t stand spiders at the best of times, so I don’t need one touching me for relaxation. That is literally the complete opposite of being calm.” Settling into my seat, I take the glass with a red drink, and it smells sweet like berries. When I taste it, I realize it’s fruit juice. “Anyway, sorry, I might have overreacted. I’m just not a fan of insects.” I’d never been good at dealing with them back in the village.

“Good to know.” He settles into the seat right next to mine, his drink on the table before us.

I glance around, and that’s when I realize the ceiling has moving clouds, and through them something with wings swishes. I’m captivated, grinning, loving this club. “This place is magical.”

“That’s one word for it,” he says, taking a long drink from his glass.

“So, you come here often, then, as you seem to be very much in your comfort zone. Or is this where you come to find company when you’re lonely?”

He leans in closer, his arm rubbing against mine, as our seats are flush with each other. “Normally, I’m here to drink and forget everything.”

“What are you trying to forget?” I ask.

He stares out onto the dance floor for a moment, then twists back to face me. “Sometimes, my father sends me here to run his errands as King Slate is closely entangled with Grimvale. Back home, it’s an endless chore of aiding with hunts, planning how to protect ourselves from the other courts, ensuring our people have enough food. And my father puts a lot of that burden on me, so when I come to Earth, I use the time to forget it all and pretend none of it matters.”

His brow pinches right between his eyes, and those wheels behind his eyes keep on spinning. I struggle to believe that Corvin can forget it all because even now, he looks deep in thought.