“I designed it like afinca, where the single soldiers and women can stay if they don’t want to be in a space of their own. Most of the families live in the houses. You can’t see it from here, but there are two large dormitories behind the house where the performers can stay together. I built a fully equipped replica stage in both with sound gear and lighting for practice. Keeps them free from tourists wanting their autographs if they come and go during the day.”
“Are there a lot of people around during those hours?”
“Yes, primarily because of the park and amusement park. We have tons of attractions during the day for people to visit. The King of Hell’s Kitchen himself helped with our restaurants and we have one with three Michelin stars.”
Not surprising for the entertainment district of Encantado.
“What is the Temple?”
Adonis only smiled in response as the car turned to the right. Fabiana didn’t need to ask again.
The Temple rose in white against the night, lights positioned to illuminate the marble stairs up to the elevated entrance with four grand columns holding up the roof. An oversized door was a short distance behind the columns.
“I planned to create a place where my pack and performers could be entertained. It’s exhausting living a life under the lights all the time. I wanted to give them something back. Here, they’d be emersed in the old world and experience the Oracle of Delphi. But,” Adonis shook his head as the car pulled to a stop, “they didn’t like it.”
“Why?”
He opened the door and got out before reaching for her. “Because it was still fantasy. They needed something more—a place to escape, to relax, to run. Whatever they needed to soothe their souls.”
She frowned. Wasn’t that fantasy too? “That’s not any different.”
“Sure it is. It’s whattheyneed and not what Ithoughtthey needed. I decided to stop the development of the Temple and instead worked with Zahara.”
Fabiana knew the Witch Doctor, of course. Everyone in Encantado did. Even if they would never meet her, Zahara’s name rang with respect among paranorms for her renowned skill. The wolves may know her connection with the Lombardi Pack now, but most only knew her in the sense of their own wishful thinking when they needed high-level magic but could never afford it.
“Zahara helped me createTranquillum, the first of its kind. A hotel where each room is a separate pocket of magic and can be reshaped to provide the occupant with the ultimate relaxation they need. So the Temple stood alone.”
Adonis tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm and guided her up the steps. The dark door opened into an open space with single slabs of wall at random places around the center, much like an art museum. Even the outlining walls of the temple were bare except for prongs ready for art to be hung up to the ceiling. Adonis walked her to the center of the room where an easel rested with a workstation. Rolling drawers opened to reveal paints, brushes, palettes, and more tools than an artist could ever dream of.
“The Temple, it seems, was meant for the woman I saw walk into a room with her head hung low, and I wanted—more than anything—to see her eyes.”
“Pequeña,” Adonis called out.
Fabiana lifted her head, stepping out from behind her brother. “Me?” She pointed to herself.
“Yes, you. Stand tall, lift your head. A Queen does not bow in front of anyone.”
A dull flush spread over Fabiana's face, and Pasquale growled. “Don't try to get cute with my sister.”
Adonis shifted his golden eyes to Pasquale. “There's nothing you could do to me, Alpha,” he admonished before he looked back at Fabiana. “I’m waiting.” He smiled when she stood straighter. “Good girl.”
“You … wait.”
The memory rolled over her. Adonis hadn’t let the meeting continue the moment she’d stepped in. The draw to do what he said, to be the Queen, had been unlike anything she’d ever known.
“This is mine.”
Adonis nodded. “No one is permitted within these walls if you don’t allow it. It belongs to you, and you can paint to your heart’s content. Your brother told me you don’t do only the prophetic pieces.”
A place to call her own, where she could control it. There had to be a catch. There always was.
“And what do I give you in return?”
“A chance,pequeña. Just a chance.”
