Chapter 45 Fallon #2
The other acrobats were on the ground now, circled around Lucy.
When she smiled at something one of the men said to her, her entire face transformed with a joy.
I found myself leaning forward, fists clenching, a possessive need to make it clear she was DemonX’s Omega overcoming my better judgement.
But I didn’t move. I forced myself to stay rooted to the spot.
I wasn’t supposed to want her anyways, not like this.
Until Lucy began to follow the group of performers towards one of the fully assembled tents. Then, I thawed, moving quickly so I wouldn’t lose track. When I was near enough to hear what was being said, I slowed my pace.
"Have you ever seen aerial work before?" A male acrobat walked just ahead of Lucy, his muscled body shining with sweat. He was young, maybe mid-twenties. I didn’t like the look in his eyes when he glanced back at my Omega.
Lucy shook her head, silver hair fluttering behind her. “I watched the Big Slick Circus on the internet one time. But seeing it in person is magical—” she hesitated, then gave a little laugh— “and a little scary.”
His own laugh was warm, inviting. Fucker was flirting with her. "Want to try something less death-defying?" He asked as the group ducked into the shadows of the tent. I waited a heartbeat, then slipped inside, darting to the right to stay in the shadows.
“Depends on your definition of less,” she said, crossing her arms, head turning back and forth to take in the tent’s interior.
The guy performer gestured toward a tightrope stretched about a foot off the ground between two low platforms. "Training wire. Everyone starts here."
A few of the acrobats peeled off and moved over to a mat, dropping down to stretch. The man stayed with Lucy, leading her to the nearest platform. He was too close; his body angled towards hers with unveiled interest. It made my jaw clench hard enough to crack teeth.
I wanted to go to Lucy right now, drawn by an instinct I couldn’t understand, and forcibly carry her away.
"I'd probably fall immediately.” Lucy shook her head, but her voice held a note of excitement.
"I won't let that happen." The acrobat's hand came to rest lightly on her elbow. "Trust me."
My vision narrowed, focusing on that single point of contact between them. His fingers against her skin. The casual intimacy of a stranger touching what was—
What was what? Nothing to me. Not mine. Not anything.
The lies tasted bitter.
Lucy allowed the man to guide her to the platform.
He said something quietly, pointing to her feet.
She removed her shoes—those ratty sneakers we'd grudgingly provided along with a bag of stained, ancient clothing—and carefully mounted the platform.
When she wobbled, the man reached up and offered his hand.
She fucking took it.
My vision was going red at the edges, volcanic heat building in my chest. What I was feeling didn’t make sense. I shouldn’t care if another man touched her body… smelled her intoxicating scent… made joy spark in her eyes. But I did.
Lucy placed one bare foot on the wire, toes exploring the rough texture of the rope.
After a brief hesitation, she took her first full step.
Her free arm shot out instinctively for balance, her body swaying precariously despite the wire's low height.
The male acrobat murmured encouragement, continuing to hold her left hand as she walked forward.
I moved before I could reconsider, crossing the space in long, deliberate strides. I approached from the side, the acrobat clocking movement and his head turning enough to catch sight of me. Whatever expression I wore made his eyes widen.
"Move," I said quietly, my voice a low rumble that left no room for argument.
He looked from me to Lucy—who was so focused on not falling that she hadn’t heard my soft order—then stepped back with a nod.
Lucy wobbled at the sudden absence of his support, her arms windmilling slightly.
"Don't let me fall," she said with a nervous laugh.
Something in my chest twisted painfully. I stepped closer, lifting my hand and interlocking our fingers. Immediately, she steadied. She smelled so damn good, natural perfume carrying nervous energy and delight.
“This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be.” Lucy was still focusing on the rope ahead.
Fuck. Why was she beautiful? Why was she fearless? Why did every part of me want to claim every part of her? We thought it would be a piece of cake to get rid of her.
"No, it’s harder," I answered. My voice sounded strange, rough with some bullshit emotion I didn’t want.
Her body went rigid. I saw the exact moment recognition hit her—the sharp intake of breath, the sudden tension in her spine. She started to turn, thrown off balance by the unexpected realization that it was me, not the friendly acrobat, standing next to her.
"Fallon?" The question fell from her lips at the same time her body began to fall towards me.
She toppled sideways off the wire with a small cry, her hand yanking from mine. I moved instantly, arms shooting forward to pull her against my chest before she could hit the ground. Her sudden proximity made every nerve in my body misfire.
For a moment, neither of us moved. I held her firmly against me, her back to my front, my arms crossed over her torso. Her breathing came quick and shallow, matching my own. Slowly, she turned within the circle of my arms until she faced me, those gold-flecked green eyes wide and searching.
I should have released her immediately. Instead, I found myself tightening my hold, one hand sliding up her spine to cradle the back of her neck, fingers threading through that silver-white hair I'd been watching all afternoon.
Time stopped.
Everything but her faded.
This was dangerous.