Feeding off the energy, my fingers twitch with a hunger I barely suppress. I raise my arms overhead, baton in my fist, and stomp my feet to the music. The crowd cheers louder. My smile widens. I turn in a circle, waving to the sea of faces staring back at me. A second spotlight flashes to life, my cue to introduce Marblas. The beam sweeps across the tent, revealing small glances everywhere but the cage, as the audience hums, full of anticipation.
Once I reach the cage, the light casts shadows while illuminating a small portion of the thick metal bars. Inside, Marblas paces back and forth, each footstep causing the wooden wheels beneath the cage to groan in protest. Nestled in the shadows, thegiant white lion chuffs and growls. The crowd gasps in terror at the sounds he makes. But I know he’s only playing his part. I can hear the slapping of his tail as he flicks it in enjoyment, relishing in toying with the humans. A dangerous energy emanates from the enchanted beast. Any second now, an offstage handler will unlatch the cage, and I’ll command Marblas to my side. The tent is steeped in silence, so thick I hear the lock slide open.
A roar so loud my shadows feel the vibrations bellow out of Marblas as he lands on the ground in front of his cage. The spotlight follows his every move as he works through the choreography. He stalks around the ring until he positions himself behind my back, like a king assessing his subject. His presence grates against my senses in warning. He chuffs behind me—a signal to duck. I drop low just as Marblas leaps over me, landing with a soft thud and roaring right at the crowd. His demeanor is menacing as I command him to my side. He tosses his head around in protest but relents, meandering over and plopping himself down obediently at my feet. I toss him a chunk of raw meat as a reward.
While Marblas chews, I flash a gleaming white smile at the crowd, and they go wild. I scan the crowd of faces for Mercy. Every woman in attendance stares back at me, entranced by the soul-siphoning charm radiating from my magic, casting a spell over the audience that only I can control.
I turn to finally acknowledge the giant white lion and offer him a nod. Perfectly on cue, he tosses his mane from side to side, flicks his tail, and glares at the audience. This time, when Marblas roars, it’s amplified by my shadows carrying the sound throughout the arena. His roar is loud enough to shakethe canvas. The audience stares at the beast, wide-eyed and speechless.
Whispering a command only Marblas can hear, I direct him to a podium where another spotlight shines, illuminating it for the crowd. He strolls obediently to the podium, steps up, circles once, then drops onto his haunches. He shakes his mane and chuffs, setting his gaze to stare me down. His tail flicks at his side, telling me he’s in a feisty mood, which means he’s putting on a show-stopping performance tonight. Shaking my head, I flash him a knowing grin and toss him a scrap of raw meat. He catches it with a snap of his powerful jaws midair, and the crowd explodes in applause. Marblas simply winks at me.
While the crowd is still distracted watching me, the crew set up a series of hoops. They vary in height but share the same wide circumference—just large enough for a full-grown lion. I make my way toward them, then toss my hands to the side, indicating Marblas should jump through the ring. He stomps his feet in protest. I fix my gaze on him once again, speaking low so only he can hear the command. Then, with a grin, I tip my hat and flick it from my head, rolling it down my arm and catching it in one smooth motion.
On cue, the majestic beast springs to life, bolting for the hoops. Every muscle in his body coils, propelling him effortlessly through the lowest of the three rings. He clears it with ease, landing smoothly on the other side. The crowd cheers. Directing him back to his mark on the podium, I toss him another chunk of raw meat. He chomps it down, eating up the attention. When he finishes, I throw my hands toward the next tallest hoop. Once again, Marblas refuses—baring his teeth and swishing histail feistily. This time, I approach the podium, staring him down with each step I take.
With an explosive surge of muscle and power, the enormous cat bolts forward, leaping through the ring, then turns to face off with me after landing on the opposite side. At the raise of my hand above my head, he bolts, launching through the lowest ring before returning to the podium. The audience leaps to their feet, cheering and applauding.
“We have them eating right out of our hands, buddy,” I say in a low voice as I scratch Marblas behind the ear. He leans into it, enjoying the show of affection. Through our bond, I can tell he’s feeding off the electrical atmosphere just as much as I am.
Suddenly, the lights go out. The big top is once again flooded in darkness. But I see everything as the Ringmaster jogs to his spot at the center of the ring. He gives a quick wave—his signal that he’s in place. The spotlight comes on, flooding over him. In one hand, he holds a blazing torch. He lifts it high above his head, and once again, the audience explodes.
The Ringmaster lowers the torch, extending it to me in a sinister offering. I clear the space between us, pluck the torch from his hand, and spin—throwing my arms out wide as I ignite the first ring. It blazes to life in a whoosh of fire and smoke. Moving carefully, I light the remaining rings, watching as the flames lick around the metal surging to life. On the podium, Marblas opens his jaws wide and yawns, revealing his sharp, dangerous teeth.
This time, it’s me who offers the lion a dramatic wink. There’s a shift in the air as the women in the crowd swoon, hearts racing with excitement. The only warning I get before the lion launches is a twitch of his shoulder muscle. It happens instantaneously. Then, in a blur of fur, he flies through the flames, unscathed. He pounces toward the crowd, stopping just short of the edge of the ring. The audience gasps in a wave of collective panic.
I toss him another piece of meat. He catches it, chewing as he paces across the center of the ring, tail swooshing back and forth.
The fire continues to blaze around the other two rings. I point to the second, and Marblas tosses his head in protest before raking his paw across the dirt ground and barrelling through it. The crowd screams and cheers, clapping for him. Marblas turns and roars. The Ringmaster pulls the freshly extinguished ring to stand in front of the taller one and reignites it with a fresh torch.
Silence falls over the audience once more as they hold their breath in anticipation. Marblas takes his mark, waiting for my cue. I step behind the tallest ring, raising my hand to the flame—but it’s not the fire I intend to touch. My shadows slip forward, unseen, ready to smother the flame the instant before Marblas flies through. I hold up the meat, dangling it in the air, and his final jump begins. The crowd hangs on every movement as it passes, and just when it looks like Marblas might land on top of me, the lights go out. I step to the side, drop the meat to the ground, and spin to pat my old friend on the back before leading him back to the waiting cage. A spotlight blinks to life just in time to catch Marblas mid-leap as he vanishes into his cage. The audience roars louder than he ever could, rising to their feet asthe white lion turns once and flicks his tail like a king retiring from battle.
I step into the center of the ring, sweep my hat from my head, and take a low bow. As I rise, my eyes finally find Mercy. I zero in on her, unaware, uncaring if she returns my gaze. I only want to run to her. To pull her into my arms, holding her tight and promising to figure out a way to end this suffering for her. She’s mine, even if the Ringmaster doesn’t realize it. I know it in my bones—an unspeakable truth the universe isn’t ready to let loose.
She smiles and claps, carelessly delighting in the show… unaware of the pain her presence shoots through my heart, shattering it into thousands of pieces. All too soon, the ring goes dark, and I’m forced to melt into the shadows. The woman who rides the elephant is poised to enter as I fade away into the background.
My act is over. My presence is no longer needed. The Ringmaster will conclude the show, and soon the audience will disperse for the evening—some to the carnival, others home to dream of the circus. I’m resolute in my decision to find Mercy. Slipping into the audience, I move toward where I last saw her, hoping to catch her before she disappears. There’s a buzz in the air, and something else—an unfamiliar flicker of magic tugging at me, as if I’m not meant to reach her. I suppress the forbidding dread hanging over the tent like a bad omen, refusing to heed whatever strange magic seeks to hold me back. I push forward, weaving through the audience as the Ringmaster delivers his farewell.
Chapter 11
Mercy
Blush creeps over my cheeks, heating them. The intense, tortured gaze Azrael is inflicting on the audience is actually aimed at me. I try to swallow, but my throat is suddenly dry—gritty with sand. My eyes dart everywhere but up to meet his stare. I gulp and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, staring at my feet, all I can do is hope he doesn’t come searching for me after the show. One sideways glance at my father confirms what I already know: If Azrael finds me, it will be my father’s breaking point.
Entranced by the show, my thoughts drift back to Azrael, replaying his performance. I picture his muscles flexing beneath his tailored suit jacket, imagining how they might feel wrapped around me. His act was spectacular, as if he fed off the crowd’s energy and excitement. His confidence was captivating, and with every blink, I feared missing something extraordinary.
The lights flash on, pulling me from my daydream. People push and shove, pouring out from beneath the big top, wandering home for the evening. Children shout, telling one another about their favorite part of the show while parents tug at them. I look to my mother for guidance, but just over her shoulder, I see him. Azrael is walking right for me.
Go away, I beg silently, willing him to hear me. To turn around. To not ruin everything.
My heartbeat pounds in my chest, but I’m powerless. I can’t bolt without consequence. I might be an adult, but my father sees me as his property—his to barter or sell. I shudder at the thought. It’s only a matter of time before he does just that. I’m trapped, and there’s no escaping this reality. Everything is going to change for the worse. Dread settles deep in my bones as I brace myself for whatever happens when my two worlds collide.
I watch in horror as Azrael continues to weave his way through the crowd, slowly inching closer to where I stand with my family. Goosebumps race over my body at the sight of him this close, caressing my skin in warning. If only I could get a message to him. If I could warn him that’s not why I’m here. Inside, something fragile snaps—because I know what’s coming will break me. We should have discussed this, but he’s so damn elusive it’s impossible to even have a conversation these days. It’s always gentle touches that leave me craving so much more. The feel of his skin brushing mine makes my knees weak, my body shuddering, filled with a desire for more than I know he’ll ever allow himself to give me.
I want to scream to release my frustration, but somewhere inside of me, I already know my scream would only drive him closer. A sultry brunette I recognize from my academy days—back when I traded chores for lessons—steps in front of Azrael, laying a hand on his chest. And to my surprise, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he smiles flirtatiously at her. My jaw drops open just as my father grabs my hand and yanks me into the sea of people.
Azrael catches my eye as I look back over my shoulder. I hope he feels every dagger I throw with my stare. My father tugs me harder, and I slam between bodies, shuffling to the exit. When I look back again, all I can see is Azrael’s top hat, and the brunette, close behind him. I sigh, hanging my head in defeat. I don’t know why I’m allowing this to hurt me. I knew there had to be someone else, and that’s why we could never be more than just friends.
I hate him. I hate him for giving me flowers and showing me kindness. It’s not fair. Why couldn’t he care for me in that way? But even with all the venomous anger and heartbreak filling my veins, I still, after all this time, wouldn’t trade our sad song and dance for the cold comfort of having never met him.
