It felt like . . . music? Nothing about this place was what he’d expected.

He continued around a bend until a large archway appeared before him and beyond that, a massive, brightly lit room. The floor turned from rough stone to silver, white, and black tiles, each one as shiny and smooth as glass.

He entered the cavern, where hundreds of bodies danced and swayed to the sounds of thundering music. They were dressed in things Rion had never seen before. Shiny black leather layered with silver spikes that sprang from their shoulders. Helmets made of various colored metals, with more spikes and feathers. Their faces were painted with swirls and lace and all manner of intricate patterns. They laughed and chattered, their heads tipping back as they cackled, the sound like shattering glass.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say this was a party.

He watched for several long seconds, marinating in the incomprehensible existence of his surroundings. This was the Underworld? Had he been tricked? Was any of this real?

Suddenly, the music cut off, and every eye in the room slowly turned his way.

Rion waited, holding completely still as though he might escape their scrutiny. He felt their naked examination as they eyed him up and down. After another moment, they began to shuffle towards either side of the cavern, clearing a wide path down the middle.

He regarded the crowd with suspicion as they studied him, their gazes vacant but also . . . curious and hungry.

“Approach,” came a deep, slithering voice that rooted into the corners of his mind. He stared down the length of the path, swallowing hard as he gathered the slivers of his courage. Then he straightened his shoulders as best as he could with the girl weighing him down.

Slowly he placed one foot in front of the other, his boots ringing on the slick tiles as everyone held completely still. As he made his way down the path, he stared straight ahead, trying not to let their heavy, silent stares unnerve him.

A massive throne sat on a wide dais at the front. Made of shimmering black stone, its back rose many stories high, spreading out in tendrils like curling smoke. As Rion drew closer, a chorus of whispers and twitters filled his ears.

Rion kept his focus ahead, on the male High Fae with midnight-black hair and glittering dark eyes occupying the throne. He, too, wore the same strange garments, though his were more subdued, as though he had no need of ornaments to prove his worth. A snug leather top covered his neck and arms, and his pants showed off the curves and muscles in his powerful thighs. Rion saw the family resemblance immediately. Herric sat with his elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he studied Rion with cool detachment.