Chapter Two
REVEL
Wind ripped past me as I flew down the dark highway, my eyes glued straight ahead.
My motorcycle purred beneath me, the roar of its engine lost to the white noise of rushing air.
I was barely listening to “Slaughterfest” by Claim Your Dead playing through the speaker in my helmet, too distracted by my wild thoughts to pay attention.
I was going back, the way I’d gone back every time I considered leaving over the last ten years.
Back to the circus.
It was all I’d known since I ran away at fourteen, but it wasn’t home. I was just passing through—though a decade in the arena was starting to feel permanent—waiting for something else.
For what? I didn’t know.
Something to disrupt the monotonous cycle of setting up equipment, performing, and breaking it all down just to travel to the next city and do it again.
Something that gave me purpose and made me feel like I belonged because even in a troupe full of freaks, creeps, and outcasts, I still didn’t fit in.
I knew logically it wouldn't be difficult to leave. I could hit the road with a full tank of gas and drive until I didn't recognize the scenery. And I had more than enough savings to put down a deposit on an apartment.
But I couldn't do it.
Every time I considered disappearing, like tonight, I would drive an hour or so away from the caravan, letting my mind wander with the possibilities of what I’d do when I finally left the circus.
And then… I would go back.
Zero was probably already waiting for me, ready to ask if I was done feeling flighty. Waiting to say, “I told you so.” He never believed that I would actually leave, but one of these days I’d prove him wrong.
Not tonight though.
Thankfully, it had stopped raining half an hour ago, but it was still a bitch to drive at night when the asphalt was wet.
Lights glared off the road, and shadows leaped out from the trees lining the highway.
Once or twice, I even thought I saw a deer readying to race across the four-lane road, but it turned out to be a trick of the light.
The third time a shadow emerged from the trees, I tracked the figure in the dark. Expecting it to dissolve when I got close, I was surprised when it only became clearer.
It was a person. Short, thin, and wearing a hoodie. Female if I had to guess, with a backpack slung over her shoulder.
As I passed, she poked her hand out, thumb pointed at the sky.
My insides twisted.
Is she really hitchhiking?
I could have kept driving—in fact, I should have. It was a shame that she was out here alone, trying to bum a ride in the middle of the night, but was that my problem?
Nope. No, the fuck it was not.
But what if she’s in danger?
“Fuck.” I groaned and hit the brakes, pulling onto the shoulder.
My instincts had always been extra sensitive to displaced people, ever since I presented as an alpha.
I remembered what it was like to be lost and alone at fourteen, sleeping on park benches, and sticking to the shadows to avoid unwanted attention.
Females weren’t the only ones snatched off the streets and fed into trafficking rings. I’d had to watch my back at every turn.
Being alone in the world for the first time with no resources and no decent head on my shoulders was a rude awakening. Scary. Uncertain.
What if the girl I passed was also running away? Trying to escape a life of neglect and abuse like I did?
There weren't many drivers on the road at this time of night.
What if I’m her only shot at getting a ride?
I could at least see if she needed help. Maybe I could call the cops, and they could handle it.
I can’t just leave her on the side of the highway.
Killing the engine, I hopped off the bike, the soles of my black boots crunching on the gravel-littered ground.
I adjusted my leather jacket, the one I always wore when I rode, and glanced back at the figure in the dark.
She was hurrying toward me, head lowered, her hands stuffed in the front pocket of her hoodie.
Hopefully, I wouldn’t regret this.
I turned off the music in my helmet with a click of a button and pulled it off, shaking out my braids. Then I balanced it on the motorcycle seat. Patiently, I waited as the space between us disappeared with each of the woman’s hurried steps.
She stopped several feet from me, and in the limited lighting—a half-ass glow cast by a streetlight across the highway— I honed in on her details in case I had to give them to the authorities later.
Black leggings, combat boots, and a dark hoodie with a faded animal skull on the front. The hood shadowed her face.
I towered over her, which was probably why she left so much distance between us. I was an alpha, after all, which was enough to make any other designation wary. Not to mention, I was decked out in silver-studded leather, looking like a reject motorcycle-gang member.
I couldn't blame her for being cautious.
“Are you alright?” I asked when a beat of silence passed, not missing the way she flinched at my voice.
Her hooded head bobbed. “I’m fine. Just trying to get to Houston.”
“Houston?” We were easily two hours away. “And you plan to hitchhike all the way there?”
“I’m strapped for cash and walking will take days.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Don't have a lot of options, do I?”
My skin prickled, her tone irritating my alpha instincts.
What a brat.
At least she didn't sound like she was in distress. She sounded calm, decided.
Maybe I wasn't dealing with a frantic runaway after all. Maybe she was used to this kind of thing, slinking around in the dark and asking for favors from strangers.
Or maybe she was putting up a brave front because I was three times her size and could easily snap her in half.
“Where are you coming from?” If I could keep up the small talk, maybe she’d let her guard down a bit. I wouldn’t hurt her, but she didn’t know that. Besides, I was curious. How long had she been traveling?
“It doesn’t matter,” she quipped. “I can’t go back.”
So she was a runaway. Not that it changed anything.
“What’s in Houston?” I asked, still wanting answers.
I wasn’t in a hurry. The only thing waiting for me back at the caravan was Zero, and I wasn't eager to see his stupid face.
Besides, I still wanted to know what the hell she was doing out here alone.
“Nothing.” Her tone was clipped.
I scowled. Obviously, there was something if she was so desperate to get there.
The situation didn’t sit quite right, and the fact that she’d yet to show her face had me even more on edge.
What is she hiding beneath that hood?
“What’s your name?” I asked.
A beat of hesitation. “Arina.”
“ Arina?” She had to be joking. “Like a circus arena?”
She huffed her annoyance, which only made the corner of my mouth lift in a smirk.
“Yes, I’ve heard every joke in the book.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s yours?”
“Revel.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between us when she didn’t reply.
“I’m only going about half an hour up the road,” I finally said when it was clear she wasn’t going to offer any more information. “To the Holt Road exit. If you don’t mind riding on the back of my bike, I can take you that far.”
It was the best I could do. If I was already going in that direction, at least it would get her closer to her destination.
Plus, I was overdue for an act of charity.
The last kind thing I’d done was not punching Zero in the face when he tried ordering the troupe around last week. He might have been second in command, but he wasn’t Hallow, and he could get fucked if he thought he could tell me what to do.
I reached for my motorcycle helmet and took a step toward her, offering it. “What do you say?”
She hesitated, like she was second-guessing her decision.
Then, she lifted her head, and her eyes found mine. For the first time, the shadows obscuring her face disappeared, and I drank in her features. Gray eyes, plump lips, pale skin. She was pretty, probably in her early twenties, and she looked fucking terrified.
“I…” Her eyes bounced between me and the helmet, and I could see the gears in her mind turning.
For a moment, I thought she might decline. The chances of anyone else stopping for her were slim, especially at this time of night. But right before I was about to withdraw the helmet, she grabbed it and clutched it to her chest.
“Sure, thanks.”