Chapter 1
I’m not a liar, but I have been known to bend the truth a little when needed. And in my defence, this is a situation where the truth was not an option I could entertain.
I needed an escape, and I needed one fast.
Which is why I’m standing in what is usually the empty Goldcrest Fairgrounds, staring at a massive gray striped tent, with everything I own that is worth saving shoved into two carry-on-sized suitcases at my feet.
It’s a gorgeous day, a stark contrast to the tempest that brews within me, but at least it’s not raining. No one wants to start their new job soaked to the bone.
Cirque de Mordu, a traveling circus geared towards adults with their death-defying stunts and acrobatics, needed a physician to travel with them for their upcoming tour.
It’s not what I would consider a dream job, considering it’s going to be filled with dude bro Alphas, but it meets my needs exactly.
A six-month contract with a generous paycheck that includes my own trailer.
It promises a place to start over .
But of course, all good things come with a catch, and this one is no different because there is a teeny, tiny problem with this arrangement.
Omegas aren’t exactly known for being great companions on the road. We have too many needs, too many sensitivities. And though we’re good at managing people, and a lot of Omegas run companies, a traveling circus is not the ideal place for an Omega.
A place like this is sensory overload on the best of days, and I know it will be my worst nightmare when I’m in heat, but it’s better than the alternative.
Most people think being a doctor means you have your shit together. After all, how are you expected to take care of patients if you’re a hot fucking mess, struggling in your personal life?
No, society would prefer to pretend that their doctors are mindless robots with the sole purpose of taking care of others.
Wouldn’t that be nice if it were the truth?
I’m a smart girl.
I’ve been told that my whole life.
But as many smart girls learn, smart doesn’t mean shit when you’re in love.
Because everything you learned as a smart girl gets buried deep down when someone with smooth words wraps his hands around your waist. When he whispers sweet nothings in your ears, and spoils you with time, attention, and gifts.
And then suddenly you’re so twisted up in him you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.
You’ve lost yourself.
That smart girl is gone, and in her place is a simpering little girl who can’t tell you up from down.
It was almost too late for me .
My ribs still ache, but at least I can tell they’re not broken.
Perks of being a doctor, I guess.
The striped tent in front of me isn’t what I think of when I imagine a circus. That word produces images of bright colors and clowns, sweet, sticky food, and tinny music. Maybe balloon animals, raucous crowds, and positive childhood memories.
But not Cirque de Mordu. It’s sleek, almost sexy, and carnival games don’t spill out of the big top. There are no jolly clowns holding balloons.
This is not a place for children.
The show starts in six hours, and then in the morning, I’ll be on the road with the crew. My two bags are dragging behind me as I seek out the trailer described in the showrunner’s email.
I pull open my phone to reread it for what is probably the fifteenth time since it arrived two days ago.
Dr. Shields,
We are excited to welcome you to the Mordu family. Please report on June 12th at 4 pm for your onboarding. At that time, I will introduce you to the staff and show you to your trailer, where you can get acquainted with your clinic.
Please see the attached countersigned contract. Your six-month term will end on December 9th, with the option for mutual renewal based on performance.
You can find me in the gray trailer with the red stripe down the side. It’ll be behind the big top, next to the smaller, dress tent.
Looking forward to meeting you in person!
Jude Oliver
Showrunner
Cirque de Mordu
This is going to be an interesting introduction, considering I have no doubt that Jude Oliver thinks I’m a man.
Which was on purpose.
My legal name is Alex, which is fine because if it were Alexandra, I’d still want to go by Alex.
But it has led to confusion over my gender identity over the years.
And with Cirque de Mordu being an all-male circus, I thought it was in my best interest if I made sure Mr. Oliver believed that I fit into that mold.
While there are Betas on the crew, most of the circus is an Alpha, and since most doctors are, too, I do not doubt that he is expecting a male Alpha to knock on his door this afternoon.
I didn’t disclose my Omega status, and I don’t feel bad about it at all. There are no laws against what I’ve done. But just to be sure, I had a lawyer review the contract with me several times. There are no grounds to terminate it based on my designation.
Maybe Mr. Oliver would’ve been okay with it if I told him, but my gut said to hide it. I need this opportunity. I have to imagine a circus is tight-knit, and they probably don’t want an Omega in here messing things up .
But I needed to get away, fast.
And the circus needed a doctor, fast.
Match made in heaven.
Look at me, now, giving in to the threat I used to make as a child that I would run away and join the circus.
The gray trailer with the red stripe comes into sight when I turn the corner around the big top.
This is it—the moment of truth.
Literally.
I prop my two suitcases against the outside of the worn, but still very nice, trailer and climb the fold-out stairs, knocking on the red door. I wince at the loud, metallic noise that echoes.
“One minute!” a deep voice inside yells. I take a few steps back and do a final check of my body.
My gray slacks are pressed, and my black booties shine. My blouse is a simple white button-up, understated but classic. My black hair is up in a neat ponytail, my bangs styled, and I kept my makeup natural.
This is not the situation to flaunt my femininity. Cool, reserved, and professional is the name of the game.
I do have on scent-cancelling deodorant, which is probably overkill with my heavy-duty suppressants, but it will stop any Alpha from scenting my pheromones. Still, he will be able to tell even without that. If asked directly, I’ll tell Mr. Oliver. But I am not volunteering the information.
The door swings open, and a large man fills the frame, staring down at me. “Can I help you?” he asks. He sounds more than a little annoyed. “We don’t do solicitors, sweetie, so you better run along or I’ll feed you to the lions.”
“Having lions at a circus goes against your code of ethics, which are listed on your website,” I respond. “If anyone gets hurt here, it’s consensual. So I am not concerned that you will feed me to a big cat. ”
He narrows his dark eyes at me. “Who are you, and what do you want? I’m a busy man, and I’m waiting for an appointment.” He peers over my shoulder as if checking the grounds for someone.
He doesn’t realize that someone is me, even though it’s four, and that’s when he told me to meet him.
Won’t he be surprised?
It’s a battle to keep the smug smile off my face. “I’m Dr. Alex Sheilds,” I say slowly, enjoying how his face morphs as my words sink in. Annoyance bleeds into confusion, confusion morphs into frustration, and frustration gives rise to anger.
“No, you’re not. I think I would know better than to hire a female,” his nostrils flare as his eyes rake my figure, “ Omega to travel with my all-male circus for the next six months,” he hisses, grabbing me around the arm and hauling me into his trailer. “You lied to me.”
My body tenses at his tone, at the feel of his massive hand on my arm. Memories threaten to overwhelm me, and my chest grows tight. I try to breathe through it and push back the fear, but spots crowd my vision.
I repeat in my head over and over that I’m not there. I won’t ever go back there.
For now, I am safe.
But am I really?
This man is a strange Alpha, I am alone with him in a confined space, and his hands are on me.
History says this is not a position I want to be in.
I struggle out of his hold, and he lets me go easily, watching me curiously as I get my fear response under control.
“Please refrain from dragging me around,” I say quietly, but firmly. “You shouldn’t be putting your hands on any of your employees, but I need to make it clear now that I cannot and will not be touched without my consent.”
Jude scrubs a hand down his face, having the decency to look a little sheepish. “Look, Alex,” he begins.
“Since you seem to have forgotten professional courtesy, you can call me Dr. Shields,” I interrupt.
He rolls his eyes, flopping into a leather chair behind a small desk in the corner of the room.
I can take in the trailer now that I’ve calmed the flight response that threatened to overwhelm me.
The door I entered opens up to a sitting room that has a couch, a television, and a desk in the corner.
I see two small doors off the back of the room, which must be the bedroom and bathroom.
On my right is a small, half-kitchen that is bereft of dirty dishes.
Work and play in one space, it appears. I assume I will have to do the same.
“Dr. Shields,” he says, voice tight. “I don’t know what kind of trick you’re trying to pull here, but clearly this partnership is not going to work.”
“I’m not pulling any tricks, Mr.Oliver.” I sit across from him, in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “You never once asked my sex, my gender identity, or my designation. Your employment agreement does not stipulate what my designation must be. You have no valid reason to end our contract.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes, and I take the opportunity to get a good look at the man I will be working for.
Jude Oliver is massive, with broad shoulders, a rounded belly, thick thighs, and hands like dinner plates.
He’s wearing a blue striped shirt and a pair of worn jeans that are stretched tight across his legs.
He’s got a head on me in height, at least, and I’m not petite for an Omega.
His skin is a rich brown, covered with shiny white scars.
His dark, curly hair falls to his chin, and he keeps it tucked behind his ears.
He’s handsome and has such strong Alpha energy that I suspect if I were off my suppressants, it would bowl me over.
I’m aware that I’m in his space, and I should be able to catch a hint of his scent, but my suppressants not only make it hard for others to recognize my pheromone profile, but also for me to register the smell of theirs.
Right now, even though I am grateful that he cannot take in my scent, something in his presence makes me want to go off them so I can get the complete picture of Jude Oliver.
“Do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?
” he finally asks after a prolonged, awkward silence.
“This is a circus of Alphas. We have Betas on the crew, but overwhelmingly, the talent that you’d need to treat are Alphas.
Forgive me for being crass, but how are we supposed to accommodate you during your heat cycle?
A rutshow isn’t the kind of show we put on here. ”
I picture him in an old-school ringmaster outfit shouting “Welcome to the RutShow!” to a crowd of screaming people. The visual almost makes me laugh out loud, but I squash it and refocus on the situation at hand.
“It is illegal to deny employment on the basis of designation,” I remind him. “But regardless of that, I am on very strong suppressants. My heat will not be a concern, not that I am obligated to share that information with you.”
He props his elbow on the desktop and rests his chin in his hand. “Is that why I can’t smell your pheromones? I can tell you’re an Omega, but it’s a blank spot after that.”
My face heats with a fierce blush. “Why do you assume I would wear my pheromones like a perfume, Mr. Oliver? ”
He blanches and pushes back from the desk. “I didn’t… I don’t… Fuck, see? This is why we can’t have an Omega here. These guys are crass. They’re assholes. This place is not somewhere for someone with delicate sensibilities. They’re going to eat you alive.”
Delicate sensibilities.
He doesn’t know who the fuck he’s talking to, if he thinks I’m delicate.
He couldn’t survive half the shit I’ve been through.
I grit my teeth and tighten my hands into fists, speaking slowly so I don’t get labeled an over-emotional Omega again. An Alpha can kick and scream all he wants, and he’s just passionate, with leadership potential.
I firmly assert my boundaries, and I become difficult and hysterical.
“I am qualified for this job. I am so qualified that you hired me sight unseen. You need a doctor, and I need to get away from Goldcrest. Do you think it’s been easy being an Omega doctor?
” He stares at me blankly, which further pisses me off.
“Do you? I was the only Omega everywhere I went. Medicine is almost exclusively Alphas, and I spent all of my schooling and residency having to prove to people that I was just as good a doctor as they were. I’m a great doctor, not despite my designation, but because of it. ”
I push back the chair and jump to my feet, crossing my arms over my chest as I stare down the Alpha, who is gaping at me like I’m speaking another language.
“Now, are you going to show me to my trailer, or should I wander around opening doors until I find it?”