“No, no, everyone comes here. Witches, shape-shifters, fae, werewolves, vampires.”

Amelia gasped, “Shape-shifters and werewolves?”

“Well, not so many werewolves. They are family people and generally too busy at home with their mates and pack to bother coming to a club.”

Amelia didn’t know what to say. Every time she thought she’d gotten a handle on this new world, something else came along and knocked her off balance.

Byron pulled her closer and said softly, “I know this is a lot to take in, and a world which you’ve only read about in books and seen in films, but this is normal to us, and it will be to you soon. You can see why we keep it secret. Humans would be distrustful of us, they would see us as a threat and try to destroy us, and believe me, we have enough turf wars in the paranormal community without adding humans into the mix.”

Amelia let out a breath. “I can understand that.”

“Here in The Sanctuary, the golden rule is we leave our grievances at the door, and it’s mostly worked well, apart from the night Victorija had you here. But it’s been a wonderful place to come over the years. The twenties were a whole lot of fun.” Byron winked at Amelia.

She could quite imagine the dapper Byron in her dinner jacket and bow tie, charming and dancing with all the ladies. How many women had Byron known in her long life? The thought of Byron with someone else made her feel queasy.

Byron must have noticed her subdued mood because she asked, “What’s wrong? Did I say something?”

Amelia felt silly and childish even saying this out loud, but she had to be honest. “You’ve lived for a long time.”

“Yes, I have.” Byron furrowed her eyebrows, obviously not quite understanding what Amelia was trying to say.

“Um…you must have known and been with a lot of women.” She felt her cheeks flush as she said it.

Byron nodded in understanding. “Oh, I see.” She could imagine the impact of Amelia realizing Byron must have had centuries of other sexual partners. Byron knew she would feel exactly the same in Amelia’s place. Amelia had lowered her head, feeling a bit embarrassed, Byron imagined. “Amelia, look at me.”

Amelia looked up and Byron cupped her cheek. “I have lived a very long life, and I have met many women, but there was only one I cared for, and only one I loved.”

“Rose?” Amelia asked.

Byron nodded. “I cared for Rose, but you are the only one I have ever loved, mia cara.” She moved inches from her lips, and smiled when Amelia’s lips parted for her.

“You, Amelia, are the one who captured my heart, my soul, and the only one I want as my Principessa. I love you.”

Their lips came together softly, and they kissed slowly for a few seconds.