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... rich, musky scent, a blend of sweat, exotic perfumes, and something raw, animalistic, clung to the humid atmosphere. He followed Fairy Moon down a spiraling tunnel carved from obsidian, faint luminous moss casting an eerie green glow on the rough-hewn walls. The distant sounds grew clearer: excited grunts, sharp gasps, the rhythmic slap of flesh.
"Curiosity, dear son," Fairy Moon’s voice, a silken whisper, drifted back to him. Her dark hair, usually a cascade of midnight, now shimmered w ...
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