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A glamor spell was the only way to attend one of these clubs, not because I was embarrassed to be seen, but because of the attention I was bound to receive from the second I walked through the doors. My only hope to avoid the fawning and fanning was to enter with a cloak of invisibility and wander through without the worry of catching anyone’s eye unless it was on my terms.
I’d been to Harbinger’s before as myself, my status as king earning me special privileges that had been fun at first, but the novelty had quickly worn off.
Having the women and couples throwing themselves at me was, of course, good for the ego, but it also took the mystery out of the chase. I rather missed the hunt of finding myself drawn in and attracted to the one I wanted.
My guards were still my guards, and for the most part, the staff in the sex club recognized Landon and Calliver almost as soon as the tinted SUV pulled up, but they didn’t make a scene, ushering the security through with me between them in my cloaked appearance.
I wasn’t hiding from the staff. I just didn’t want a fuss to be made at Harbinger’s when I entered. I’d reveal myself to the right female when I found her, in the privacy of a room with strobing lights and pulsating music. The club prided themselves on discretion, which was why I always opted for this place to the other three I could have chosen in the kingdom. Harbinger’s had always been my favorite, not only for their delicious selection of various toys, but because the females always seemed freer here, more open to whatever I had in mind to release the intense pressures building inside me.
“Make yourselves scarce,” I told the guards unnecessarily.
They knew the drill, keeping an eye out for trouble that never came as I fulfilled my urges. I didn’t worry that something would happen while I lost myself in the endless pleasures Harbinger’s had to offer.
But tonight was different. The desire to unload myself was overwhelming in the aftermath of my conversation with Mirielle. I couldn’t have gotten out of the suite fast enough, my fidgeting hands suddenly overcome with the urge to seize her face and pull her toward me. The pull went beyond the physical attraction I had toward her, the way my eyes couldn’t stop raking over her body in the form-fitting dress.
Through my peripheral vision, I thought I saw a scurry of movement across the floor, but when I looked, I realized it must have been a trick of the flashing lighting inside the club as the last of the parking lot faded away behind the fire doors, closing at my back.
“This way, gentlemen,” the hostess offered, unable to see me now, my eyes trailing through the smoky interior for my next conquest.
There were many familiar faces there, ones I knew intimately. Several couples mingled through, nodding at my guards who had yet to fall back, but that’s not what I sought. I wanted someone smaller, with fiery red hair and porcelain blue eyes.
Someone who looked more like a certain trespassing fae whom I’d left behind at Silverhold Tower—the mere thought of her making me harder.
It was hard to find a unicorn in a sex club. That’s why they were called unicorns in the first place. Even harder to find a unicorn under specific parameters like mine.
I weaved invisibly through the throng of patrons, locked in passionate embraces, a pang of jealousy spiking through me at their relationships. Anything went here, males with males, females with females, males with females, and of course, any other combination with multiple partners. Endora would have argued that I, too, could have had happiness if I had been willing to settle down.
“Settle” being the operative word. Finding what I craved was difficult when I wasn’t sure I knew it myself, and it was simply easier to frequent a club like this and scratch the itch as it arose than turn over the continent in search of these so-called “mates” that apparently existed for every soul on the planet.
But not even kings were guaranteed to find theirs.
I wasn’t entirely skeptical of the phenomenon. I had seen them—or what appeared to be soulmates—finding one another, but I couldn’t envision that life for myself. Those relationships had a solid foundation.
And after what had become of my mother, trust was going to be a problem. I had no way of knowing which one of these faeries held allegiance to Agnan. When they wanted to, the Order of Souls could look like anyone else.
My mother knew all about that.
I remained out of view of the patrons, ignoring the moans of pleasure, the bumping and grinding that escalated by the moment. Sex filled my nostrils, arousing me and angering me simultaneously. I wouldn’t find what I wanted, what I needed here. I was going to do what I always did—settle, despite my intentions to the contrary. I would find the wrong female and fill my desire before returning to my bed, where Mirielle slept so close but figurative oceans away.
“Alpha!”
The hiss came in my ear, and someone stepped on my toe, forcing me to turn in annoyance. Calliver stood awkwardly behind me, looking in the general direction where I was walking but unsure if I was there. In my transparent form, he couldn’t make out where I was.
“Really?” I barked back. “You know better.”
“I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important, but that fae is here—the apprentice.”
For a moment, I could only stare at him, even though he couldn’t tell.
“Alpha? Are you there?”
“What are you going on about?” I demanded, heat rising to my head.
The DJ raised the volume of the R&B song, forcing Calliver to lean in, his head off center to mine.
“Lacroix’s apprentice—Mirielle? She’s here.”
Baffled, I scoffed. “That’s impossible. It must be someone who looks like her.”
