Chapter Five
ARINA
Daze was undeniably sexy. Tall for a beta, probably just under six feet, with lean muscles wrapping every inch of his frame. Naturally tan, flawless skin.
He was funny too.
Had I ever thought about running away with the circus? I laughed. Before yesterday, I’d never considered running away at all.
“No, I haven’t.” I shook my head. “People really do that?”
He waved a hand over himself, and I had to fight to keep my eyes away from his perfectly tanned, washboard abs. The fact that he was in gray sweatpants didn’t help. At all.
“We do,” he assured me with a brilliant white smile.
I tried to keep eye contact, but it was easy to get lost in his rich, brown eyes. Instead, I focused on his pointed, angular nose.
Was everything about this man fucking perfect? It was like he’d been plucked from a circus romance book and plopped down in front of me. My eyes bounced up to his wavy, rainbow hair, and I was instantly jealous. Yep, he was perfect.
“Do you like it?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Being part of the circus?”
I needed to get out of here. I needed snacks and a shower before I continued my hitchhiking journey to Houston, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. I’d never been to a circus, and it wasn't exactly a common profession.
When will I get a chance to chat with another troupe member?
Yes, that was definitely the reason I was lingering out here in the dingy truck-stop parking lot. Not the fact that Daze was the prettiest man I’d ever seen.
Besides, he was friendlier than Revel and easy to talk to. It didn’t feel like we were complete strangers. It felt like I’d met him before, even though I was certain I hadn’t.
“My favorite place on the planet is in the big top,” he explained with an easy smile. “I’ve never felt so alive or free as I do in the ring, so yes… you could say I like it.”
Free.
The word held more weight than it should have, and an image flashed through my mind. One of me in front of a crowd of people, wearing some insane outfit, without a care in the world. Free from a life of sticking to the shadows.
Free from the Stone pack.
The thought was enough to make me laugh again.
The spotlight was the last place I needed to be while I was on the run.
“Are you a clown?” I glanced up at his vibrant hair again.
He chuckled. “Hardly, though I’ve been told I’m kind of funny. I’m an aerialist.”
“Like the trapeze?” I canted my head to the side.
His eyes lit up immediately, the glow brightening the rest of his features. “Trapeze, silks, and hoops mainly.”
I could imagine Daze twirling above a crowd, wrapped in rainbow-colored silks, and I didn’t hate the idea. Something about his cool confidence told me he was probably spectacular at his act. Maybe one day our paths would cross again, and I’d get to see him perform.
“What about Revel?” I asked, my gaze drifting toward the highway even though he was long gone.
“I'll give you one guess.” He smirked. “I’ll even give you a hint: you've already seen him do it.”
“Well, I've only seen him be an asshole and ride a motorcycle…” I said, counting them on my fingers. “So I'm guessing it’s the latter.”
Daze snorted a laugh, his shoulders shaking with the sound. “Right again. He’s one of our motorcycle stuntmen. He does jump tricks and rides in a cage.”
Motorcycles in a cage?
That sounded way worse than motorcycles on the highway.
No fucking thank you.
“Are you meeting anyone?” Daze asked when I didn’t say anything else. His gaze drifted across the lot. “Or is Revel supposed to come back for you?”
“Umm…” I hesitated, knowing it was best to keep my plans to myself as much as possible. The fewer people who knew where I was headed, the better. That meant less witnesses to tip off the police or the pack on my tail.
But if this guy was friends—or co-stars—with Revel, he’d probably find out eventually.
“Just trying to get to Houston. Probably going to catch a ride in the morning.”
Concern flashed over his features. “A ride? Here? ” He looked around. “Just be careful. You can’t trust a lot of the creeps that hang around places like this.”
I looked him up and down. “Noted.”
“You can trust me more than most.” He winked. “But unfortunately, I can’t help you get to Houston. If you were headed to Dallas, we might be able to give you a ride, but…” His voice trailed off.
Dallas.
I hadn’t considered heading North. At least I’d visited Houston once or twice when I was younger, before I awakened. I couldn’t remember why we went—probably to visit friends—but my mother had loaded us into the car after my fifth-grade graduation, and we’d driven there for… something.
That was why my heart was set on Houston. It reminded me of her, and it was far enough away from home that I’d feel safe. After that, who knew. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“Right,” I said, shoving down the uncomfortable thoughts. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I should probably go…”
“Likewise.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he nodded instead and turned to walk away. I watched him for a moment, an unsettling feeling heavy in my chest. I was… disappointed.
Why the hell would I be disappointed?
It wasn’t like we were friends; we’d just met. He was only making small talk to be polite…
Still, it had been nice to talk to someone, if only for a little while. To forget the problems chasing me, to forget that I was afraid. Talking to Daze had been a whisper of relief, but as I turned to head across the lot, my shoulders sagged.
I paused before rounding the corner of the building, chancing a glance behind me. He was gone. My gaze jumped to the row of Knotty Sideshow trailers one final time, lingering for a second as my thoughts slammed to a halt.
In another life, maybe running away with the circus wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
But not this one.
In this life, I was an omega in hiding. A fugitive on the run. I had too many secrets hovering over me, too much danger threatening to swallow me, to think about something as carefree and whimsical as joining a traveling troupe of performers. I couldn’t risk getting caught.
Not to mention, I’d be putting other troupe members like Daze at risk by hiding out with them. If I was caught, they’d be charged with harboring a wanted omega and the illegal suppressants in my bag. I couldn’t do that to them.
I headed inside.
Trying to look less nervous than I felt, I approached the counter and paid for a shower.
Thankfully, the gas station also sold bars of soap and toothbrushes because I’d forgotten to pack them.
If I’d had a little more warning, I would have carefully planned out the contents of my backpack, but I’d been racing the clock.
“You’re in stall three,” the pudgy woman behind the counter said, cutting off my thoughts. She handed me a key attached to a ruler, which would have been hilarious if I wasn’t so nervous. “Down the hall and to the left.”
With a polite nod, I collected my things and followed her directions.
Beige tiles covered every inch of the shower stall, which was actually just a restroom with a curtainless shower. There were no linens; I should have expected that. Another thing I regretted not grabbing before I ran, but they didn’t have any for sale at the gas station.
I’ll have to drip dry…
I rolled my eyes. At least I’d be clean.
With a sigh, I dropped my backpack on the counter next to the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was surprised by the bags under my eyes.
Am I really that tired?
I didn’t feel tired.
The last bits of adrenaline were still running through me, keeping me going. I’d eventually crash, but right now I just felt numb.
Pulling off my hoodie, I laid it aside with my backpack and double checked the locked door. Couldn’t be too careful, especially in a place like this. I unlaced my boots and kicked them off, then peeled off the rest of my clothes.
I looked over my naked reflection, turning this way and that to inspect my pale skin.
I managed to make it this far with only a few scratches here and there from traveling through the woods, and for that I was grateful.
So many things could have gone wrong from the time I ran out the back door of my house until now.
But I was okay, and I was safe. For now.
With a shaky breath and my mind reeling, I turned on the shower and waited a few seconds for the water to warm. Then I stepped into the angry spray, thankful for decent water pressure. I closed my eyes as the heat soaked into my sore muscles.
Yesterday, I never could have imagined being stranded at a truck stop.
But here I was.
Stuck, alone, and with no way to get where I wanted to go.
I sighed.
All because that bastard sold his soul—and me . He traded my life and my freedom for some cash.
My mind wandered, and I was back in our house again.
“Ari.” My father’s voice drifted down the hall from the living room. “Can you come here?”
I paused the movie I was watching—a delicious romance about a Mafia princess—and tossed the remote aside. I shuffled across the threadbare rug covering most of the floor, wondering what he could possibly need.
He said he was going to buy groceries, but he’d been gone for a couple of hours. Maybe he needed help unloading the car.
“Coming!” I called.
When I walked in, he was standing in the middle of the living room, wearing slacks and a collared shirt—something he never wore—and his dark hair was neatly combed back. Odd. The last time I’d seen him in anything other than pajamas or his work clothes was at Mom’s funeral four months ago.
I paused in the doorway. There wasn’t a grocery bag in sight.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Come have a seat.” He ignored my question and gestured to one of the thrifted lounge chairs next to him. “We need to talk.”
Alarm bells screamed in my head, but my feet remained rooted to the spot. My intuition had always been wickedly accurate, one of the only perks of my designation, and I didn’t like the way my stomach twisted at his words.
“I’m fine here,” I said. “What do you want to talk about?”
His jaw hardened, and something dark flashed behind his eyes. He hadn’t always been so bitter and easy to anger, but everything changed when my mother died. Over the last few months, he’d slowly changed, morphing into someone I didn’t recognize.
Clearly, he wasn’t happy with my answer.
“Did I do something wrong?” I pressed, and he shook his head.
“Arina, please.” He gestured to the chair more adamantly. “Just sit, and I’ll explain everything.”
I didn’t want to, but something told me I should go along with it. Play along, get answers, go from there.
How bad could it be?
I sat begrudgingly, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Okay,” I huffed. “What is it?”
He cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair.
Did something happen? Did someone else die?
“I want to talk about your future.”
What the hell? My future?
This was all so random, but I knew it couldn’t be for nothing. Not with how he was acting.
“Okayyyyy.” I drew out the word. “I’m listening.”
“You’re twenty-one now.” Like I didn’t know that. “And you aren't getting any younger. Not to mention, you’re an omega. You won't be able to hide that fact forever.”
My blood chilled at the word.
Omega.
The grim truth of my designation always loomed at the back of my mind. My mother had done her best to keep me hidden before she died, but we’d never talked about what would happen farther down the road.
My father wasn’t wrong. Could I theoretically take suppressants for the rest of my life? Yes, but there was a good chance that they would destroy my hormones long-term. Not to mention the cost—suppressants didn’t come cheap.
But we’d never addressed it, always avoided talking about it. Especially after Mom died.
So why now? Why today?
“I know,” I said uncomfortably. “I figured I would at least finish college. I can get a job and look for an apartment ? —”
“There’s no need to worry about a job or school for that matter.” He perked up, finally seeming a little excited. “I have everything covered.”
The words should have offered me some kind of relief or comfort, but they didn’t.
Not with that unfamiliar glint in his eyes.
I stared at him for a long moment, my mind moving as slow as molasses.
What did he mean he had everything handled?
Did he secure a lifetime supply of suppressants? Did he win the lottery?
“Dad, you’re stressing me out,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted. “What do you mean you have everything covered?”
“Exactly that.” He nodded. “I have everything worked out. I think the best and safest option for you is to embrace your designation and be bonded into a pack. That way, all your bills will be covered, and you’ll be safe. No more suppressants, no more hiding.”
I scrunched my nose.
It was true, I’d never given much thought to long-term plans, but the idea of a pack was unappealing at best. Especially considering what I knew about alphas. They were demanding, controlling, and aggressive. That wasn’t something I ever wanted to deal with, much less multiple alphas at once.
I shifted uneasily in the chair. “Dad, I don’t really want to be bonded into a pack. Especially not now. I’m still young. There’s so much I want to do ? —”
My words died when he shook his head. “You think a pack is going to want you when you’re past your breedable years? Ari, think logically for a moment. This isn’t one of your fairytales. We aren’t living in a book. This is real life we’re talking about.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, fighting off the sting of his words. Again, he wasn’t wrong. Omegas had a role in our society, and if I ever ran out of suppressants, I would need an alpha.
Still, I wasn’t ready to think about it. It was too heavy of a subject for a random Thursday afternoon.
“Fine,” I finally said, eager to get back to my room. “I’ll think about it. Finding a decent pack isn’t easy; it’s not something I can just do overnight.”
A grin broke across his face that had ice zipping up my back. “You don’t have to worry about that either. I’ve already taken care of it for you.”
My stomach dropped through my ass.
“Excuse me?” I gaped at him. “Took care of what?”
“Finding you a pack.” The excitement on his face turned sinister. “The Stone pack made an offer I couldn’t refuse, so I agreed to let them bond you. They should be here in”—he checked the time on his watch—“an hour, so why don’t you make yourself presentable for them?”
My heart lurched, and my eyes snapped open. The image dissolved, and I was left with nothing but the boring beige tiles around me and the intense spray of water pelting my back. I took several shaky breaths, trying to clear my head.
“Fucking bastard,” I whispered, the words echoing off the walls.
I reached for my new bar of soap, fighting tears, and hurried to wash myself. If I was lucky, maybe the memories would wash away with the dirt and sweat.