Malachi’s fingers draw maddening circles on my sensitive flesh, gliding higher on my thigh and making me shift in my seat. I glance over my shoulder, finding Hart’s gaze lasered on Malachi’s hand and not the show. His eyes, which look like orbs of midnight in this dim light, meet mine, and his lip curls at the side, most likely remembering what we shared. Malachi pinches my thigh, making me yelp, and my head twist to him.
“Eyes on the show, Daphne,” he murmurs as Hart trails a finger along my nape, making shivers ripple down my spine.
The crowd erupts into applause, but the sound is almost drowned out by the sudden haunting strains of a violin. A single performer emerges, a figure cloaked in shadows with a bow that dances across the strings on its own. The melody is a siren call, tugging at the hidden desires of every listener. Images of being naked between the twins assault my mind.Hart’s breath on my nape, his harsh and unrelenting hands plucking and pulling at my nipples, while his brother’s soft lips coax me to let go of all my inhibitions.
Somewhere in the circus’s darkness, laughter bubbles—soft, sensuous, and tinged with malice. The ringmaster strides into the center of the ring, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
“Ah, but this is merely the beginning,” he says, spreading his arms wide. The light flickers, and the tent stretches, growing larger, its walls pulsing with a life of their own.
“Dare you stay for more? Or will you leave before the circus unveils your deepest truth?”
The audience murmurs, uncertain yet unable to resist. The magic of the circus is not in its acts, but in its promises—dark, seductive, and irresistible.
“What will it be, Calamity?” Hart purrs in my ear. “Stay or go?”
My spine arches as my breasts swell and heat gathers low in my belly. I already know the answer, as do they.
“Stay.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
The night swells with a pulse that feels alive, the air seeming to crackle with magic. The circus has shifted, stretched. What was once a single tent has expanded into a sprawling carnival of forbidden wonders. Tents of deep burgundy and black rise like jagged peaks against the velvet night, their entrances yawning with golden light that flickers like fire. The music, once playful and bright, has become something darker, a low thrum that hums under the skin.
“I will meet you at the carriage,” Gwyneth says as she stands.
“Are you sure? I can come with you.”
“Stay and have fun,” she encourages.
“But I thought—” Charming starts.
“You thought wrong,” she snaps as she steps down and makes her way toward the exit. He sighs and trudges after her.
“Sir Sweeps-A-Lot, chaperone my sister. If Charming lays a hand on her, beat his face with your wood.” The broom stands upright like he’s saluting me before zipping away to follow them. “Will they be okay?” I ask the twins.
Malachi grabs my hand and tugs me down the steps. “Your sister is the most capable maiden I’ve ever met. I’m not worried, are you?”
I shake my head. Truly, I am not worried. Gwyneth can handle a dozen poopfloofs with one hand tied behind her back.
“Then let’s go explore,” Hart says. His breath tickles my nape, making the hairs on my arms prickle before the two of them melt into the throng.
The heat of the carnival wraps around me like a living thing, its scents of spice, smoke, and something heady I can’t place lingering in the back of my throat. I step cautiously into the pressing horde and onto a path lit by lanterns shaped like grinning masks, their flickering shadows seeming to leer at me.
Somewhere in the crowd, they linger, their gazes pressing against my back like a phantom touch. Hart, with his quiet intensity, the curve of his lips like a secret he might whisper if I dared to get too close. And Malachi, brash and bold, his laugh a weapon he wields like a blade.
I turn a corner, my pace quickening. Another tent looms ahead, its entrance draped in heavy velvet curtains embroidered with silver thread. Above the doorway, in letters that shift and shimmer, the sign reads: The Labyrinth of Reflection. I hesitate for a heartbeat before slipping inside.
The air changes the moment I cross the threshold. Laughter and music from outside become muffled, replaced by an eerie stillness broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint sound of my breathing. The walls of the labyrinth rise high around me, shimmering panes of glass and mirrored surfaces that stretch endlessly in all directions.
My reflection stares back at me, multiplied a hundredfold. The gold thread in my outfit glitters under the strange light that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere. I press a hand to one mirror, and my reflection presses back, but there’s something… off. My mirrored self smiles a second too late, the curve of her lips too sharp, too knowing.
A whisper echoes through the maze, low and sinuous. “Daphne…” I spin, my breath catching, but there’s no one there.
Another whisper, this one closer. “Why do you run from us?”
My heart pounds as I turn again. Malachi and Hart’s reflections appear, multiplying and distorting in the endless mirrors. Malachi’s green eyes catch mine, and even through the glass, his gaze is searing.
