Savannah stepped through, but I paused before the maenad. “If this turns
out badly, I won’t hesitate to rip your throat out.”
“Oh, I like you. By all means, wolf man, go wild and don’t hold back.
After all, a revel wouldn’t be complete without a little blood spilled. Desire is
what makes us alive.” She snickered and lowered her voice, her glance
flicking toward Savannah. “Something tells me, though, that your desires
have nothing to do with killing.”
“Watch yourself, maenad,” I growled, ducking under the curtain. But then
I froze, my senses bombarded from an explosion of sounds, smells, and
sights.
Scantily clad males and females danced and scampered through a garden
wholly different than the jungle we’d just left. Faerie lights floated above a
circular podium in the center that was ringed by white marble columns
draped in vines and crimson flowers. Music drifted through the air, and the
heady smell of jasmine and honey was intoxicating.
“What is this place?” Savannah asked, wonder glinting in her eyes.
“A trap,” I muttered, and I fought against the haze creeping in around the
corners of my mind.
“My home.” Cavra motioned with outstretched arms. “You’re safe here to
explore your deepest desires. Drink and eat. Dance. Fight or fuck. As I was
telling your mate, just don’t hold back.”
I stiffened as Savannah laughed weakly. “My mate? Oh, no, we’re not
together.”
“Hmm,” the maenad mused, and gave me a wink. “What an interesting
way to play it.”
A male approached holding a tray of goblets. He had the legs and hooves
of a goat but the upper body of a man with a bestial face. Savannah’s jaw
dropped as she took in his form, her gaze lingering on his upright ears and
horns.
“What are you?” she blurted.