She shrugs. “It’s fine. My nails needed a touch-up, anyway.” Her tone is as flat as a pancake, contrasting harshly against the others I’ve met so far.
“So, is the engagement over?” I ask, part worried, part hopeful.
She looks like she wants to laugh. “Hey, don’t freak out. It’s normal and healthy or whatever for couples to fight, my parents do it all the time. They’re just giving you two time to cool down, and since you’re not allowed to be by yourself per your weird wolfy laws, here I am. We’ll all be reunited at family dinner tonight and I’m sure Yasmeena will forgive you.”
“Great.”
I don’t really care if she forgives me, because I willneverforgive her. I bet they think once I meet everyone and see how happy they all are here, I’ll be nicer.
Jokes on them. I’m not nice, not even to my own family. The only people who really receive mynicenessare customers, and that’s because I want their money.
Niceness is an act, and kindness is a virtue I was not afforded. Wolves are raised to be tough and smart, to not cry or show weakness. Alphas and seconds-in-training have even stricter guidelines we must follow.
Don’t covet, avoid attachments, and be willing to give your life for your pack.
This is the code we have to follow for the betterment of the lupion. I have to put my people’s lives before my own. So I’ve learned to mute my emotions, making myself numb to the world.
Hel’s Carnival feels almost like the opposite of my pack. They protect each other, but they also put all their emotions and passion on display. Everything’s an act, but they really are all full of life and personality.
And for me, it’s like seeing a rainbow when all I’m used to is gray. It’s beautiful, sure, but it’s also strange and ephemeral. I’d rather be back in my familiar, cloudy sky where it’s safe and I know what to expect.
It truly infuriates me that I’m stuck in this cluster-fuck of a circus when I should be at home, training and learning, conditioning my mind and body, and preparing myself for my future as Alpha.
“How old are you?” Curiosity gets the better of me before I can reel the words back.
Smudged eyeliner lines her eyes, making it harder to tell her age. “Eighteen.”
“What age did you join?”
“I didn’t.”
I shake my head. “What do you mean you didn’t?”
“I never joined,” Una begins. “I was born into the carnival. My parents are Robyn, Quinn, and Rowan.”
That explains a lot.
“And now you perform in the circus or whatever?”
Her skin flushes a darker pink. “No, just the carnival. I want to do The Sinner’s Circus, but Draven won’t let me. He says I’m too young.”
I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but props to Draven. I remember myself at eighteen, and I want to tell her it’ll happen when the time is right. I want to tell her that Draven just cares about her, but then I remember my purpose here.
“That sounds like an excuse. He probably doesn’t think you have what it takes and is too nice to tell you,” I say, even though the look on her face breaks my heart.
Tears swell in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall, she just gives me a hardened look.
“Hey,” comes a voice from the entryway. “How’re things going in here?”
“Oh good, can you take over? I have to use the bathroom,” Una says as she excuses herself from the tent.
The one with black scleras turns back to Una before looking over at me, her eyes full of fire. “What was that?” She’s small in stature, but there’s a quality of intimidation to this hybrid thatvery few people I’ve met possess. I would venture to guess she’s one of the executioners, but I can’t be certain.
“As punishment for being a bitch you guys had me hang with a teenager who has attitude issues. Did you really think that would go well?” I ask in earnest.
“Well, now you’re stuck with me, an even bigger bitch than you could possibly imagine,” she says, putting out a hand. “I’m Reina.”
I place her outstretched hand in mine and give it a shake. “I’m Tempest.”
