Three Ring Heat, Part One (Cirqueverse)

Chapter One

ARINA

The crowded bus lurched abruptly, and the brakes ground to a stop. I threw a hand up against the seat in front of me to keep from slamming into it.

What the fuck?

Icy fear punched through my veins.

There was no way we were already in Houston.

Peering out the wide window next to me, I couldn’t make out much. A cluster of trees, their canopy outlined against the midnight sky. Tiny raindrops flecking the glass. It looked like we’d moved off the highway onto a smaller, deserted road, but it was hard to tell through the blanket of darkness.

My stomach sank. Something was definitely wrong.

I whipped my head around, noting the confused faces around me, as curious murmurs erupted among the passengers. Doing my best to stay calm—panicking would solve nothing—I clutched my old backpack tightly to my chest, waiting for some kind of instruction from the driver.

The bag was all I had left to my name, and it smelled like home. Rich cedar, wrapped in light florals that would normally help calm my frantic thoughts. Right now, though, it only spiked my anxiety.

If anyone discovered what was buried at the bottom of the backpack, the illegal suppressants I’d been taking for three years to smother my heat and mask my scent, it would be the end of the line for me. I’d fought so hard to get here, done unspeakable things to gain my freedom and run for my life.

It couldn’t end here. Not now.

My fingers ached as they dug into the material, my thoughts spiraling. Was this a routine bus stop that hadn’t been on the itinerary? Motor trouble? Did they already catch up to me?

The question sent chills rippling through me, and it felt like my seat had been ripped out from beneath me.

I’d done my best to cover my tracks, paid for my bus ticket in cash, and kept a low profile.

I even left my cell phone at home for fear of being tracked.

I’d done everything I could to stay under the radar, but despite being so cautious, I was still terrified that the pack I wanted no part of would find me.

The pack who bought my freedom.

Deep down, I knew it didn’t matter how far I ran; they would catch up. No pack would let an omega slip through their fingers, especially one they owned. They wouldn't give up.

They would come for me.

It’s only a matter of time.

I refused to hand myself over to them. I refused to be bartered like an object. I was an omega, not a goddamn thing to be handed off thoughtlessly. Especially not when my mother fought so hard for years to keep me safe and hidden.

The Stone pack could get fucked.

“I wonder if we hit something.” The burly beta male who had been asleep next to me the entire time was awake now, his tired eyes staring around in confusion. We’d been stuck in this hot, sweaty sardine can on wheels for hours, but he’d blissfully snored away most of it.

“I don’t know,” I muttered.

My gut said no. There hadn’t been any bumps or loud noises prior to the groan of the grinding brakes.

Despite the long, boring drive, I’d been wide awake since we left Floral Ridge, Arkansas. It didn’t matter how long I stared at the backs of my eyelids and attempted to doze, I couldn’t sleep.

I would have heard or felt a collision.

No, this was something else.

“Maybe a traffic stop?” I offered, swallowing the lump in my throat. Of all the possible scenarios playing in my brain, that was the worst case. A police officer was the last thing I wanted to see right now.

My panicked thoughts became more irrational as the seconds ticked by, and hypotheticals hounded me.

Were they looking for fugitives? Checking IDs?

Were they hunting omegas?

Were they hunting me ?

I stared down at my trembling fingers, trying and failing not to dwell on the events that led to me running for my life. The heat suppressants weren’t the only reason I’d be royally fucked if anyone found me now. I was a criminal, a fugitive, a murderer.

Well, I wasn’t sure about the last one, but it wasn’t off the table either.

A baseball bat to the back of the head didn’t mean immediate death, but my father’s body hadn’t moved once it hit the floor.

Guilt crushed down on me when I considered what I’d done, but I didn’t have a choice. He’d sold me, sold my freedom to the Stone pack, and I did what I had to do to get away.

The thought of getting caught, of being dragged back to the alphas who’d bought me, was too much, and I swallowed down a sob. Every wall I’d put up would come crumbling down if my increasing panic didn’t subside, and a crowded bus was the last place I wanted to fall apart.

“Please remain calm,” a muffled voice announced over the shotty intercom system, disrupting my train of thought. It sounded like he'd been swallowed by a couch. “Everyone grab your things and head toward the exit. Do not run or shove. Do not block the aisle.”

My heart dropped through my ass, and I stood up, impatiently waiting for the lumbering beta to get to his feet. I had no idea why we were evacuating, but it couldn’t be good.

Was there a tornado?

A bomb threat?

Are we being hijacked?

I was grasping at straws, considering every possible scenario, as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. Shouldering my backpack, I clung to the strap until my knuckles turned white and bounced on the balls of my feet.

Passengers shoved and squeezed their way into the aisle, doing their best to remain calm like the bus driver asked, but the nervous tension filling the small space was palpable.

People chattered urgently as they grabbed their things, and when the beta finally made his way into the aisle, I followed in his wake.

I kept my hood pulled low to hide my face as we headed for the front of the bus.

Nausea turned my stomach.

I still had no clue what the hell was happening, and I couldn’t shake the dread creeping up my spine.

Something isn’t right. It was my only thought as we hurried toward the exit.

Hot, muggy air smacked me in the face the second my combat boots hit the soaked asphalt, and I immediately missed the sardine can on wheels.

It might have been hot on the bus, but at least it didn’t feel like I was trying to choke down a wet blanket.

My leggings already clung to my skin with the humidity, and I wanted to rip my hoodie off, but I couldn’t; I needed it to keep my face hidden, and that was more important than comfort.

I’d have to suffer through it.

I glanced around to get a better view of where we’d stopped.

We were on a small rural road, illuminated by a single streetlight a short distance away.

There was an overpass behind us, but aside from the trees sprouting on both sides of the road, I couldn’t make out anything besides the confused passengers around me.

“Look,” the beta grunted, gesturing toward the back end of the bus.

I followed his line of sight, bracing myself for the worst, and that’s when I realized what the problem was.

The engine was on fucking fire.

Flames licked out around the side, black smoke billowing into the night sky and quickly blending in with the dark stretch overhead.

As more people realized what had caused the abrupt pit stop, they backed away from the bus.

Some whipped out their phones, eager to record the mayhem, while others clustered together to chatter in tones I couldn’t decipher.

A few moved to the other side of the road to give the flames a wide berth.

“Fuck,” I swore through gritted teeth. I adjusted the bag strap on my shoulder and moved off to the side, away from eager recorders. The last thing I needed was a video of me showing up on social media—that definitely wouldn’t do me any favors.

I stepped onto the grass, trying to work out what my next move should be.

The flames only grew higher as the minutes ticked by, and it didn’t appear that the driver had a fire extinguisher.

He was busy frantically giving directions to a dispatcher on the phone while urging people to keep a safe distance.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to come up with a plan.

Realizing there weren’t any cops or alphas searching the bus was a tiny blip of relief from the fear slamming through me, but I knew I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Getting back on the bus wasn’t an option, and I didn’t want to stick around and find out what would happen if the police showed up.

They’d want my name, my story…

That was out of the question. The amount of suppressants in my bag alone would earn me federal prison time, but I couldn’t ditch them. They were my only shot at remaining hidden.

A single female backpacking across the country was one thing, but an unbound omega with a bounty on her head…

No. I couldn't risk revealing myself, ever. I needed the suppressants.

I sighed, once again faced with the harsh reality of my designation. It hadn’t always been this way.

A long time ago, before I was born, omegas weren’t forced into hiding to save their lives. Back before the alphas became merciless, ruling everything with an iron fist, things were better. Omegas weren’t always kidnapped and forced into pack bonds to breed them.

My stomach pitched at the thought, bile burning up the back of my throat. I knew there were no alphas nearby—I would have scented them a long time ago—but the thought of one finding me made me sick to my stomach.

Alphas ran every aspect of our world, from elected government positions to back-alley deals. They took what they wanted, eliminating anyone who stood between them and what they so desperately sought, and omegas like me… we were nothing but prizes for them to claim.

Unfortunately, we were a dying designation.

Over the last decade, there had been a steep decline in omega births, though no one could explain why. It was a terrifying prospect. We were already rare to begin with, and with the rapidly declining birth rate there were talks of extinction.

If the omegas died out, our entire societal structure would collapse. Alphas would no longer be able to breed. They would turn to betas, who couldn’t even survive a mate bond.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that countless betas would die…

In the distance, sirens wailed, and my heart skipped a painful beat. Emergency personnel would be on the scene very soon. I didn’t know the protocol—whether they’d take everyone’s name or leave us in peace—but I wasn’t keen to find out.

I knew myself too well. I could lie all I wanted, but my face gave me away every time. It was one of the many curses that came with my designation; I was far too expressive for my own good. My eyes would convey my panic, and my panic would betray my guilt.

Then, it would be jail or a forced bond, and I didn’t want either.

I stared down the dark road that disappeared into the distance. It would be all too easy to hide in the brush until the scene cleared, but then what?

I couldn’t walk all the way to Houston, but I could potentially catch a ride. Maybe. There wasn’t a single car on this little side road, but if I trekked back up to the highway, I could stick out a thumb and hope for the best.

My stomach sank again. I knew hitchhiking was a horrible idea. An unbound omega in hiding hopping into a car with a stranger? Yeah, that reeked of poor judgment and bad consequences.

But what choice do I have?

The sirens grew louder, and I knew I didn’t have much longer to decide. Should I stay with the crowd and hope no one needed my name for an incident report? Or should I disappear into the foliage and work out another way to Houston?

I could call an Uber, but I was already painfully low on cash. I needed something to survive on for the next couple of days, and I hadn’t packed any snacks. I brought only what I could fit in the backpack, which wasn’t much after the suppressants and some clothes.

Shifting my weight back and forth, I swallowed down a whine.

Red and blue lights whipped onto the road, blasting through any lingering indecision, and my feet moved before I told them to. I spun around and darted straight into the trees, letting the darkness swallow me.

I’d take my chances on my own and figure things out, but there was no way I was getting caught. I’d come too far, fought too hard, for it to all end now.

I watched from the bushes as two patrol cars, a firetruck, and an ambulance arrived on the scene. The back half of the bus was completely engulfed in flames now, and I could feel their heat from my hiding place.

Policemen made their way through the crowd, and I clutched the strap of my backpack so hard my knuckles ached. Dread swept through my system at the thought of them finding me, of them finding the illegal suppressants buried in my bag.

I was right to hide. It was too dangerous to stay.

Mind made up, I turned and hurried deeper into the trees.

My plan? Walk until I could catch a ride to the next big city. Hypothetically, it sounded easy, but something told me it would be a pain in the ass to find a ride with someone who wouldn’t ask questions.

After that? I had no idea.

But anything was better than getting caught by the Stone pack or going to prison.