I cross my arms, trying to focus on Taryn’s performance,before I finally cave to my more primal desire—being right. “And you do? Who died and left you king?”
“It is quite literally my job to try and listen to everything that’s happening, every microscopic detail, and see the bigger picture. So yes, I have magic.”
“Consider yourself lucky, then. Most of us with magic had to sacrifice or fight for it.”
“I had to fight for it too, Princess. Luc didn’t just grant me magic one day—I had it before I ever joined the carnival. It was how my brother and I were able to escape Ira. I couldn’t even control it for the first few years, and only now am I beginning to understand how to properly wield it,” she explains, and a sprinkle of guilt fills me. “I understand the rage you feel regarding the royal family controlling the magicite, trust me. I understand it all too well.”
“My ancestors invented those runes. They were the ones who discovered magicite could be turned into atra,” I say, unsure of why I felt like sharing that. “They’re why I’m able to wield ice.”
“Light a candle and tell them I’m grateful,” she says, and I nod. The audience applauds Taryn and Rowan.
Raph comes back to the center and introduces Gemma and Draven’s act—The Sphere of Death, their knife-throwing burlesque dancing extravaganza.
Gemma and Draven are equally captivating as they take center stage, both bringing an energy and charm that I want to bottle up. The way she moves, and the way he reacts in tandem, it’s effortless.
“They’re amazing,” I say as they take their bows. Their strengths and talents are equally breathtaking and terrifying.
Yasmeena looks at me and smiles. “We can be too.”
Movement No. 13
Yasmeena
“Good morning,” Lilian says, walking through the doorway of our tent.
My lupion fiancé is standing by the vanity in striped pajama pants and a tight white tank top, looking moretemptingthanTempestas she yawns. Tempest pulls her messy hair back behind her shoulders and gives us both a deadpan stare. “I was just leaving, I guess. I’m going to go get ready and then we’ll do our community service?”
“Sounds good,” I say as she exits the tent we now share.
“How are things going?” Lilian asks, and I pat the edge of my bed. She takes a seat beside me, and I wrap an arm around her and squish her firmly.
“I’m pretty sure she hates me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well for starters, she mumblesI hate that cat bitchin her sleep,” I say, and Lilian laughs a little too hard.
“It’s not funny! She actually says that.”
Lilian’s chuckles continue. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That is objectively funny. Maybe she meant catty bitch and was referring to Reina or a pack member she hates or something.”
“No, she definitely means me. And it’s okay, I don’t really likeher either. Except the weird moments when I do, but that honestly just makes it worse.”
“What? Why?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. She is quite difficult to get along with. She makes assumptions about me a lot, and she smells a little bit like a dog before she showers.”
“Okay, well I don’t think she can help the last one,” Lilian says and pokes my arm. “Is there anything youlikeabout her?”
“She’s strong-willed and determined. And she’s pretty easy on the eyes,” I confess, and Lilian gasps like I’ve just said something scandalous. “What?!”
“You’re attracted to your fiancé!”
“Is that a crime?”
“No, it’s a good thing.”
I sigh. “Don’t get excited; nothing real is going to happen between us. Can wepleasetalk about you? Anything exciting going on in that pretty pink head of yours?”
