Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
“I’m not trying to push you,” he says softly, his gaze locked on mine. “I just… I don’t want you to think you have to carry this alone.”
His words are gentle, but they hit me like a sledgehammer. Carrying things alone is all I’ve ever known. It’s what I’m good at. But the truth is, tonight scared the hell out of me. Almost losing Zeus, the circus, the people I care about—it’s all too much. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to carry it alone anymore.
I don’t respond, but I don’t look away either. I let the silence stretch between us, thick with unspoken things, with emotions neither of us are ready to face. I can feel the heat of him, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. It’s been building for so long, this unspoken desire between us, and for the first time, I’m not sure I want to fight it.
He moves closer again, just enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hand lifts, slowly, hesitantly, like he’s giving me the chance to stop him, to pull away. But I don’t. I can’t.
His hand rests on my arm, gentle but firm, and I feel the electricity of his touch shoot through me. It’s like a spark, igniting something inside me that I’ve been trying to smother for so long. My breath catches, and for a second, I let myself lean into it, into him.
But just as quickly, the fear comes rushing back—the fear of losing control, of letting him in, of getting hurt again. I can’t afford to be vulnerable. Not now. Not ever.
I pull away, stepping back, breaking the connection between us. The air feels colder, emptier without his touch, but I force myself to put the walls back up. I have to.
“We need to focus,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “This isn’t about us. It’s about the animals, about the circus.”
Alex watches me, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that tells me he’s not giving up. Not yet.
“I know,” he says softly. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not about us too.”
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and unresolved. I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Instead, I turn away, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing.
The tension between us is still there, thick and undeniable, but I’m not ready to face it. Not yet.
I hear Alex move behind me, but he doesn’t press. He’s giving me space, but I can feel the weight of his presence, the unspoken promise in the way he lingers near.
We’re not done. Not by a long shot.
But for now, the danger has passed. The emotions haven’t.
Chapter Twelve
Alex
The lights of the circus flicker, casting long shadows over the ring, but it doesn’t feel like magic tonight. The big top is alive with energy, a sold-out show roaring in the audience, but my focus isn’t on the dazzling acrobats swinging above or the thunderous applause that rattles through the tent. It’s on Sophia, standing center stage with Zeus, her lion. And it’s on the invisible danger that lurks behind every corner.
Sophia is poised, commanding, the picture of strength as Zeus circles her in the ring. But I can see the tension rippling under her skin, the way her gaze darts to the edges of the tent, scanning for something—anything—that feels out of place. She’s waiting, just like I am. We both know it’s coming. The villain is going to make their move tonight, and Zeus is the target.
I shift from my position near the back, trying to keep an eye on everything at once. The air feels too thick, too charged. There’s a hum of anticipation running through the crowd, but they’re here for the show—they don’t know that the real performance is happening in the shadows. I lock eyes with Sophia for a brief moment, and there’s something unspoken there, something heavy. We don’t need words. We’ve been on this path long enough to know what’s at stake.
And then it happens.
The lights snap off without warning, plunging the tent into complete darkness. The audience gasps in unison, the sound swelling up like a wave. For a second, everything is chaos—screams, confused murmurs, the ringmaster’s voice barking orders to try and calm the crowd. But I know better. This isn’t a technical glitch. This is it.
I’m already moving before the lights flicker back on, and when they do, my worst fear is confirmed. Zeus’s cage, which was supposed to stay at the edge of the ring, is being wheeled toward the back of the tent by masked figures. My pulse kicks into overdrive. It’s all unfolding exactly how we feared.
Sophia’s eyes widen, but only for a heartbeat. She doesn’t freeze—doesn’t let the panic that’s surely pounding through her veins stop her. She’s too strong for that. Her voice cuts through the noise, sharp and commanding. “Zeus!”