He grabbed my face again, less gently this time, and squeezed until my cheeks ached. “I brought you here so no one would hear you scream should I decide to use them on you.”
My stomach pitched, and my throat throbbed where he’d cut me. I knew I was bleeding, but I didn’t know how bad it was.
“Who says I’d scream for you?” I asked, knowing I was playing with fire.
Darkness flashed behind Zero’s eyes, making my heart skip a painful beat, and he ran his tongue over his lip. I’d never seen him look more calculating or predatory.
“You’re lucky I intend to deliver you in one piece,” he warned, turning his back on me. “Otherwise, I’d carve up that pretty flesh of yours. Your tongue might not be very important, but your body is.”
Nausea rolled in my stomach, and I shivered.
I didn’t want to think about alphas touching me, bonding me, or breeding me. Maybe it would be better if I antagonized Zero until he took his knives to my skin; maybe that way, no one would want me, and I could stay with the circus.
A grim fucking prospect, but I was clinging to any whisper of hope at that point.
I can’t leave the sideshow.
It was all I had.
There was a singular card I had left to play, one final plight I could make that might appeal to Zero enough to let me stay. But it was the one thing I didn’t want to share.
If I told him about the scent match, if I admitted that he was the reason I’d been unable to leave in the first place, would it make a difference?
Probably not.
But at this point, I was out of time and ideas.
I squirmed in the chair, trying to get comfortable with my arms stretched behind my back, but it was impossible. I didn’t even understand why he tied me up in the first place, except to appease his masochistic side. It wasn’t like I could run away.
“There’s something you don’t know,” I started shakily, still not sure I should bring it up. Giving him that much power over me, another thing to lord over me, wasn’t a good idea, but it was better than being sold to another pack. This time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape. “The reason I joined the circus, the reason I stayed at all.”
He tried not to react, but I saw his eyebrow twitch. I’d piqued his interest.
“And why is that?” he asked when I hesitated.
“Because…” I cleared my throat, trying to shake the desperation out of my tone. “You’re my scent match.”
He stared at me for a long moment, probably processing the words.
And then he tilted his head back and laughed, the sound reverberating off every surface in the room. His shoulders shook, and he clapped his hands together, as if I’d just told the best joke he’d ever heard.
“You’re funny,” he said when he finally looked back at me. His eyes were watering. “I’ll give you a crumb of credit where it’s due; that’s a good one. But you really expect me to believe that?”
I took a deep breath, clinging to his caramel-popcorn scent. The scent I’d become obsessed with since I laid eyes on Zero for the first time, the one I dreamed about. I’d done my best to shut it out, to escape it and ignore it, to no avail.
This crazy-ass clown was my scent match; of that, I was sure.
Jaw flexing, I nodded slowly.
“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s not going to work.” His face morphed with faux sympathy. “Scent matches don’t exist, haven’t for years. They’re a fallacy, made up to keep omegas from accepting bonds so they can be fed into the system. Everyone knows that.”
My brows furrowed, and I stared at him in disbelief.
What kind of fucking nonsense is he talking about?
Of course they were real. Rare, but real.
“I’m telling the truth.” I glared, finding my courage. “Why would I have put up with you being such an ass? Why would I have stayed if I clearly wasn’t cut out for the circus?”
