“Do you guys have your hats and sunglasses?” Grant tucks his brilliant hair under a hat and puts on his massiveaviator glasses before flipping up the hood of his sweater. We look like celebrities trying to hide out from the paparazzi, but we haven’t been recognized.
Yet.
Cirque de Morduis not a regular circus. It’s high-flying, death-defying acts, and darkly seductive.
It was amazing.
The network set us up with a private box where we watched the acts put themself in danger over and over again.
The Twisted Twins on the trapeze had me clenching Grant’s hand so tight he almost lost circulation. They’re flying around with no nets under them! What happens if they fall? There was a duo, Quick Cut and Maestro, that started with knife throwing and ended with the Alpha swallowing a sword while hanging from the ceiling by hooks driven through his skin. I’ve never seen anything like it.
The whole show was dangerous, thrilling, and captivating, and I am so excited that the network arranged for us to meet some of the performers afterward.
By the time the show is over, and security leads us to the backstage area, several performers and the ringmaster are hanging out in a green room waiting for us.
A dark-haired man covered in tattoos bounces to us. He’s wearing a pair of track pants but no shirt, his lithe, muscular torso on display. “Hello! I’m Dario, one of the Twisted Twins. It’s nice to meet you.” When he bows deeply, the other half of his act, his twin with bleached-blond hair, peeks over his shoulder and gives us a half wave.
I peel off my hat, sweater, and glasses. The network wouldn’t have set this up if they needed us to remain anonymous. There’s no way they could expect us to, and there are so many people in this hot and stuffy room. My pack follows my lead, and Ivan collects all of the loose articles before piling them up on an empty chair.
“Hi, Dario, I’m Ariana.”
A man with shaggy hair and sleepy eyes straightens against the wall. “Oh shit.” It’s barely more than a breath, and then he’s out of the door.
“Don’t mind him.” The ringmaster, a giant man with hands the size of dinner plates and dark, wavy hair, steps up and greets us. He’s changed out of his performance outfit into more casual jeans and a plain t-shirt. “I’m Jude. We knew we were meeting some television personalities, but forgive me for not recognizing you.”
“That’s because you don’t watchKnot What You Expectedwith us.” The quieter twin speaks for the first time. “They’re this season’s pack.”
I didn’t consider that they’d watch the show. They don’t seem like the target audience for reality television. At least the last episode has already aired, and the reunion airs tomorrow, so seeing us as a group doesn’t spoil anything. This is the first time I’ve been noticed for being on the show, and I don’t know how to handle it.
It’s hard to look any of them in the eye when I know they watched me have phone sex.
The door bangs open, and the shaggy-haired man comes back, dragging an Omega with dark hair behind him.
“See! I told you!”
She pats him on the chest with a smitten smile. “So Isee, Quinton. Forgive my rude Alpha, he forgot his manners. I’m Alex. We’ve been watching your season, so he got a little excited to bring me to meet you.”
The other Omega takes a step toward me, reaching her hands out and hovering them over mine, giving me a chance to decide if I wanted to let her touch me. I turn them over and clasp hers.
Alex is one of those people who looks smart, even though smart doesn’t have a specific look. She’s probably ten years older than me, if I had to guess, and she’s wearing a pair of athletic leggings and a plain top. I doubt she was expecting to meet anyone tonight, and yet she looks adorable and put together.
“I was diagnosed with Foresaken Omega Syndrome a few years ago. My case was milder, brought on by years of heavy suppressant use, so it wasn’t as bad as Calvin had it, but it was scary. You’re so fucking strong, Ariana. I know you probably don’t think you are, but what you went through was something no one should have to endure. I sobbed through most of your episodes. FOS is a miserable illness, and I’m lucky my Alphas were here to help me through it.”
“Oh.” This moment of connection with another Omega, one who understands my fears, isn’t something I’ve ever had before. “Thank you. Going on the show was difficult, but my anxiety has gotten a lot better since the show wrapped.”
The man who dragged her in here moves to her side to jump into our conversation. He’s thin, with a pointed chin and heavy eyelids. An Alpha, but not muscular like most are. I’m pretty sure he was the one hanging from the ceiling by his flesh. I kind of want to see what his back looks like right now.
“She’s a doctor. Been doing some research into FOSsince the first episode.” He’s preening like a proud peacock. Is that how my Alphas look when they talk about me?
My boys finally find their voices, as Grant steps forward and slings an arm around my waist. “Really?”
She waves his sentence away. “It’s no big deal. It got me thinking, is all. What Calvin went through shouldn’t have happened. There has to be something more that can be done than hoping donor pheromones work.”
A Beta twirling a knife sits on the floor, leaning against the wall. That must be Maestro. “Don’t let her downplay it. She’s been obsessing over it. She’s even made several calls to specialists.”
“Specialists?” That gets Derrick’s attention. “What have they said?”
The other Omega waggles her hand. “Not much. The funding is so limited. The show has shone a light on it, though, and it’s possible that, with enough community support, things could change.”
