Our Omega. I rolled that over in my mind. Why had I phrased it that way?
Lucy shuffled out of the way, several stunt techs swooping in to help the woman roll out of the net. Not that it was necessary. The woman was a pro, tumbling quickly, hands snatching the net’s edge, and flipping down to the ground. A memory surfaced as I repositioned myself near a trailer marked ‘talent’, keeping my distance.
I knockedmy dinner off the table with a deliberate sweep of my forearm. The steak—still bloody in the center—landed face down on the pristine white carpet, pinkish juices immediately blooming outward. Bright green peas scattered across the floor, some rolling under the heavy oak dining table, others coming to rest against the baseboard of the far wall. I’d woken her up attwo a.m., telling her I was hungry. I’d forced her into the kitchen, roughly tugging the heart necklace we wouldn’t let her remove, and then I’d slipped an apron over her head, securing it around her waist so tight that it cut into her body.
Now, I was showing how little her effort meant to me.
"Clean it up," I'd ordered, my voice deliberately cold.
When she hesitated, I stood up with more force than necessary, knocking my heavy chair to the ground with a resounding thud. She backed a step away, mouth quivering, but Lucy didn’t cry. I stepped closer, using my height to tower over her. Her scent, terror-tainted, clouded around me and almost made me lightheaded. The way she smelled made my dick jump with need. I sometimes couldn’t think clearly around her. That unsettled me, because thinking was my lifeline in all things. There’d never been a problem I couldn’t work out.Until Lucy.
Which is why we had to push her away.
"You're not a guest here. You're a burden. An obligation. A fucking headache. The sooner you understand that, the better." My tone was acerbic, and I felt darkness flood my eyes.
I wrapped my large hands around her tiny shoulders, and I pushed her down. She resisted at first, knees locking into place. I pushed harder. For a fleeting moment, I worried I’d snap her legs. A flash of guilt seared through me. Her eyes glared, acid green with anger.
“Clean. It. Up.” I pressed, voice a low growl.
I watched as she crawled across the floor, first turning over the clipped plate and placing the ruined steak atop it, then moving from one pea to the next, gathering them against her cupped palm. She kept quiet, but I caught the spark of defiance in her eyes. It only encouraged me to be crueler.
Shoving the recollection away,I pulled myself into the present.
The other acrobats were on the ground now, circled around Lucy. When she smiled at something one of the men said to her, her entire face transformed with a joy. I found myself leaning forward, fists clenching, a possessive need to make it clear she was DemonX’s Omega overcoming my better judgement. But I didn’t move. I forced myself to stay rooted to the spot. I wasn’t supposed to want her anyways, not like this.
Until Lucy began to follow the group of performers towards one of the fully assembled tents. Then, I thawed, moving quickly so I wouldn’t lose track. When I was near enough to hear what was being said, I slowed my pace.
"Have you ever seen aerial work before?" A male acrobat walked just ahead of Lucy, his muscled body shining with sweat. He was young, maybe mid-twenties. I didn’t like the look in his eyes when he glanced back at my Omega.
Lucy shook her head, silver hair fluttering behind her. “I watched the Big Slick Circus on the internet one time. But seeing it in person is magical—” she hesitated, then gave a little laugh— “and a little scary.”
His own laugh was warm, inviting. Fucker was flirting with her. "Want to try something less death-defying?" He asked as the group ducked into the shadows of the tent. I waited a heartbeat, then slipped inside, darting to the right to stay in the shadows.
“Depends on your definition of less,” she said, crossing her arms, head turning back and forth to take in the tent’s interior.
The guy performer gestured toward a tightrope stretched about a foot off the ground between two low platforms. "Training wire. Everyone starts here."
A few of the acrobats peeled off and moved over to a mat, dropping down to stretch. The man stayed with Lucy, leading her to the nearest platform. He was too close; his body angled towards hers with unveiled interest. It made my jaw clench hard enough to crack teeth.
I wanted to go to Lucy right now, drawn by an instinct I couldn’t understand, and forcibly carry her away.
"I'd probably fall immediately.” Lucy shook her head, but her voice held a note of excitement.
"I won't let that happen." The acrobat's hand came to rest lightly on her elbow. "Trust me."
My vision narrowed, focusing on that single point of contact between them. His fingers against her skin. The casual intimacy of a stranger touching what was?—
What was what?Nothing to me. Not mine. Not anything.
The lies tasted bitter.
Lucy allowed the man to guide her to the platform. He said something quietly, pointing to her feet. She removed her shoes—those ratty sneakers we'd grudgingly provided along with a bag of stained, ancient clothing—and carefully mounted the platform. When she wobbled, the man reached up and offered his hand.
She fucking took it.
My vision was going red at the edges, volcanic heat building in my chest. What I was feeling didn’t make sense. I shouldn’t care if another man touched her body… smelled her intoxicating scent… made joy spark in her eyes.But I did.
Lucy placed one bare foot on the wire, toes exploring the rough texture of the rope. After a brief hesitation, she took her first full step. Her free arm shot out instinctively for balance, her body swaying precariously despite the wire's low height. The male acrobat murmured encouragement, continuing to hold her left hand as she walked forward.
