Page 33

Wrath

I watch from the corner, everything blurred but clearer than any dream I’ve ever had, and I know I’m standing in Oddity Cirque. The red and white fabric is a dead giveaway.

My red eyes scan the room, and I notice it’s different. It’s not the present day—it’s cleaner, newer. The fabric isn’t torn or weathered, and the air feels untouched.

A boy with curly brown hair gets shoved through the curtain, stumbling forward, and I follow him with my red eyes. Then Valen steps in behind him with a woman who has rope tied around her wrists, slung over his shoulder like dead weight.

He storms past the boy and clears a desk with one violent sweep, everything crashing to the floor. The boy flinches when it happens, but Valen slams the woman down onto the wood like it’s routine.

I start moving closer, slow, needing to see more. The woman has long black hair, young features. Her blue eyes are sharp, laced with something darker than just fear—something broken. Tears streak her face, but she doesn't fight. I don’t recognize her.

Then I look at the boy again, and everything inside me stops.

It’s me. I know it. Even blurred by memory, I know that look in his eyes. Mine.

“Come here, kid. Tonight you learn,” Valen says, voice flat, demanding.

I feel it all again, that dread and hesitation. Younger me doesn’t move. How old am I? Maybe nine, Maybe ten. I can’t even tell. I could be younger.

Valen turns, his glare burning through me, and his hand flies out, striking the side of my face with a loud crack. I step forward without thinking, chest tight, everything squeezing in on itself.

He grabs younger-me’s arm before I can pull away and yanks me toward the woman, positioning me between her legs like it’s nothing.

“Now do it. Like I fucking told you. Like I taught you.”

My stomach knots and I feel tears threatening, not from pain but from the weight of it all as I watch younger-me freeze.

Valen lifts the edge of her long black dress, exposing her like an object, like a gift, and yanks her further down the desk. She just stares, wide-eyed, looking straight at younger-me, lips trembling, terrified.

When I don’t move again, Valen’s hand smashes into the side of my head.

“Do it!” he yells, and the sound rips through the space like a gunshot, echoing through me.

Everything that happens next rocks something deep inside me.

Seeing myself as a kid being forced into this, that fucking young. Doing this to a woman much older.

My throat tightens, my chest caves inward, and my eyes sting as I watch it unfold, powerless to stop any of it.

Young me is crying, and she’s screaming, but Valen doesn’t care. He strikes her hard across the face, then yells at me to keep going.

I blur as I move closer, eyes locked on the kid’s face, my face, twisted with horror.

She starts shouting something through the tears, something strange and sharp, like a chant in another language, like she’s trying to curse me or warn me or maybe save herself.

“Shut her up!” Valen roars, voice cutting through everything like a blade. He hits me again, snapping my head to the side, rage pouring off him in waves. “Wrap your hands around her throat while you do it and squeeze tight. It helps.”

A tear rolls down my painted cheek as I watch myself do it. My teeth are gritted tight, arms straining, shaking as I choke her. It feels like it goes on forever before she finally goes limp.

But even then, I’m made to keep going. Even when she’s dead.

Until I’m finished. Until Valen’s fucking satisfied with the outcome.

When that moment comes, younger-me’s hands finally fall away from her throat. Deep purple bruises are embedded in her skin. Her eyes are still open, glassy and lifeless, staring up at nothing.

Hollowed out. Gone. And the boy, me, just stands there, frozen, vibrating. Tears are running down his face, terrified by what he’s just done.

And that’s the moment I realize, this must have been when I truly lost myself.

Without thinking, my tattooed hand lifts toward him, instinct taking over. I want to touch his face, tell him it’s okay, that none of this was his fault. But my hand passes through him like air.

Like a ghost trying to comfort another ghost.

“You did good, kid,” Valen says behind younger-me, voice calm, like any of this was normal.

I feel sick, bile rising in the back of my throat as I turn my harsh glare on him.

“You killed the woman responsible for your parents’ deaths. I’m proud of you.”

My brows pinch, confused, trying to make sense of what the fuck he’s talking about, until suddenly, a small child’s cry echoes in the distance. I lift my head, and they do too, all of us turning toward the sound, to the door.

Without warning, Valen grabs younger-me by the shoulder and yanks him away, dragging him toward the exit.

I follow close behind, matching their hurried steps, the cries growing louder and sharper.

They push into another section of the Cirque, pulling back a curtain, and I slip in behind them.

“Well, what do we have here,” Valen snarls, tone quiet and vicious.

I glance around and realize it’s a nursery. Faded mobiles hang above old cribs, pale moonlight slipping through slits in the canvas.

I move around my younger and spot Valen’s standing over a crib, and inside sitting is a young child, maybe two years old.

“We won’t be needing you either,” he says, flipping out his knife with a flick of his wrist.

“No!” me and younger-me both shout, stepping forward in panic at the same time, voices overlapping, terror ripping out of us in sync.

Valen pauses, side-eyeing young me, his knife poised above the child’s throat. I watch younger me, the fear tightening in his chest, but he wipes his swollen eyes with trembling palms before stepping forward.

“I mean, why do we have to kill her? A baby? Maybe someone will want her...”

Young me’s voice quivers, a plea slipping out.

“Want her? Who would want this child? Her mother was filth, and this kid will be too.” Valen spits out the words with venom, his eyes never leaving the baby. “Plus, she’s… female.”

“Please, Uncle Valen,” young me begs softly, the words barely escaping through the tightness in his throat. “Please don’t kill her.”

Valen remains quiet for a long moment, staring down at the child, his expression unreadable. I hold my breath, eyes locked on him, waiting.

Then, without a word, he flips his knife closed and shoves it into his pocket and I let out a shaky exhale, a small flicker of relief, but it doesn't last long.

He leans into the crib, scooping the child into his arms with a grunt, adjusting her so she sits cradled against him. “You just got lucky,” Valen snarls, his voice low and dangerous. He looks over at young me. “I’ll only do this because you did me and your parents proud tonight.”

Young me’s faint nod is all that follows, a quiet answer.

I move closer, drawn to the child, my heart still hammering.

As Valen shifts her in his arms, and I notice she’s got thick black hair and blue eyes, but when her blanket falls to the floor, my eyes snap down to it.

As soon as I see the name embroidered on the fabric, my throat closes up.

A suffocating panic surges through me and the world around me begins to blur, spinning as I try to steady myself, my breath shallow and quick.

Wrath -

“Aurelia!” Her name tears from my throat as I jolt upright in bed, sweat soaking my skin.

I twist around, my hand shooting out to the space beside me where she usually is and it’s empty. The cold sheets hit me like a shock to my system and before I can think, I’m up and out of bed, racing for the door.

I yank it open, barely hearing the creak of the hinges, and storm through the trailer. Hell, Noir, and Soul are sitting at the kitchen table, but everything around me is a blur, my mind fixated on one thing. Seeing her.

“Wrath?” Noir calls, confusion in her voice, but I don’t stop, don’t even look at her.

I burst out into the night, moving like a force, driven by a gut feeling that something’s wrong. The Cirque is just ahead, the shadows swallowing the path, and I know

she’s there. She said she was training, but it’s since that dream, everything feels fucking wrong now.

I don’t slow down. I’m on autopilot, each step urgent, my feet pounding against the cracked ground before I enter the back entrance of the tent.

I can hear everyone following behind me now, their steps quick, voices laced with panic. My heart slams against my chest, but when I enter the main tent, it’s empty, silent and eerie.

My red eyes scan the darkened space, wide and frantic, searching for any sign of movement. Any sign of her.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I spot something or someone between the seats, crumpled and unmoving. I rush forward, and when I’m close, I kneel beside her limp form. It’s Madame and blood pools around her like a spreading stain, dark and soaking into the dirt.

Hell is right behind me now, his expression one of pure shock.

“Ma?!” he yells.

He bolts forward, crouching beside her and taking her frail wrist in his hand, pressing his thumb to it.

“Faint, but there,” he mutters under his breath, but his voice falters as his gaze flicks to mine.

“Noir! Go get Billy!” Hell orders over his shoulder.

My pulse is in my throat, my head fucking spinning. Where the fuck is Aurelia? I snap my head over my shoulder again, eyes darting and searching the shadows for her.

“Any idea who would do something so fucking stupid?” Hell bites out in anger, and it brings me back.

Before I can answer, Madame chokes out, her voice hoarse, blood spilling from her lips.

“Valen,” she gasps his name, and everything in my body freezes.

“He took… He…” She gasps again, but she doesn't finish, her words cutting off as her body goes limp.

“He took?” I ask urgently, my voice breaking, but she's passed out before she can say another word.

Without thinking, I surge to my feet, my hands shaking as I pace.

Hell follows me, but I can’t stop moving, I’m like a damn animal stuck in a cage.

“Aurelia...” I whisper her name.

Hell’s hand grips my shoulder, stopping me, his voice calm but firm.

“The Shadows,” he says, reminding me of the rules.

“Fuck the Shadows!” I seethe, my voice low and dangerous. “Not a single one of those fuckers is stopping me from doing what I have to do next to get her back.”

“Wrath,” Hell says again, his voice a warning now. “I’m not losing you.”

I whirl on him, my eyes wild, almost frantic, my chest heaving.

“And what the fuck would you do if it was her?” I snap, my teeth clenched, barely holding onto whatever control I have left. “What would you do if it was Noir?”

Hell’s eye stays steady, but I can see it in his expression, he knows I’m right. If it were Noir, he’d burn this place to the ground. Just like I would for Aurelia.

The sound of heavy footsteps breaks the tension as Billy enters, rushing to Madame's side, and within seconds, he and Soul are lifting her lifeless body.

But Hell and I just stare at each other. Neither of us says a word.

…

I hear Hell’s voice behind me, already on the phone, talking to the Shadows as I head for my bike. When I stop beside it, hands on the handles, he stands next to me, his phone on loudspeaker.

“Valen shot Madame and took one of the Oddity’s girls,” Hell announces.

“Is Madame alive?” the voice on the other end asks, and I grip the handlebars so hard my knuckles turn white.

“Yeah, but barely. She might not make it.”

“Might not…” the voice repeats, slow and steady, like it doesn’t even matter and it fucking eats at me, every second dragging on as time ticks away is a waste.

“And which member did he take?”

Hell clears his throat, his eyes locking with mine, both of us knowing exactly where this is headed.

“She isn’t a member, but she works here.”

“Well, then, if Madame doesn’t die, you’re not authorized to kill Valen. He’s a Shadows member… And very loyal. The girl? She’s not our problem. Stay out of it.”

I clench my jaw so hard, my teeth threaten to shatter, his words hitting me like a smack to the face. Who the fuck do these cunts think they are? All the blood I’ve spilt. All the pain I’ve instilled in people and myself. For them.

My wrath flares white-hot, turning every muscle in my body to stone.

“I’m not sure Wrath’s gonna accept that. It’s his girl,” Hell says the fact.

“Wrath needs to do as he’s fucking told,” the voice snaps back. “He’s had enough warnings in the past. He’s already lost his mercy. There are no more warnings or let-ups.”

My mind already made up. Nothing they can say or do will stop me. Not now when she’s in danger and she needs me.

I rip the phone out of Hell’s hand, the sharp crack of it slicing through the air, and press it to my mouth, but nothing comes out.

My throat feels like it's closing in on itself, every breath ragged, sharp, as if the very air is choking me.

“You stupid fucking motherfucker…” I growl, barely able to form the words, my voice strained, like it’s been dragged across glass.

They don’t even deserve my voice. But this isn’t about fucking privilege. This is a fucking warning from me.

There’s silence on the other end of the call. The kind of silence that only makes the screaming in my head louder.

“I’m gonna carve Valen up piece by piece,” I choke out, the words like acid on my tongue. “Do you understand that?”

“Wrath, you’re not authorized to do that,” he responds and it’s cold and flat, like it’s just another order, like it’s nothing, like she’s fucking nothing to me.

“Authorized?” I hiss, my breath coming faster now, the rage building, burning through me like wildfire. “You don’t get to tell me what I can do when it comes to her. She’s mine. Shebelongsto me. Not you, not fucking anyone.”

I can hear him breathing on the other end, but he doesn’t say anything. And that only makes me more unhinged, more desperate, because I know what’s at stake.

I turn, my eyes wild, scanning the darkened outline of the Cirque.

My pulse is a drum in my ears. My hands are shaking, my body

“You know what?” I say, almost with a deranged calmness. “I’m gonna show you what happens when you fuck withme. Let’s see how well you handle the goddamn wrath that’s coming for this place. You fuck’s are nothing without Oddity.”

I don’t even give Hell a second glance before I shove his phone into his chest. I feel the fury pulse through my body, violent and uncontrollable. I’m already moving before I even think about it, storming over to a barrel of fire, my heart pounding in my ears like a countdown.

I reach into the flames, ignoring the burn, my fingers wrapping around a piece of wood, still glowing, still crackling as body is thrums with rage and the need to cause destruction.

I turn around, the fire igniting in my hands, its heat biting into my skin before I bolt forward. With a guttural, loud roar that rips through my chest, the rage built up inside me unleashes in a single, savage bellow, I hurl the flames toward Oddity Cirque.

My whole body trembles from the force, the fire splitting through the air like a living thing, and when it collides with the fabric, it ignites instantly.

The red flames spread fast, clawing across the canvas, devouring it in a vicious dance. The tent becomes a furnace, flames twisting and snapping like hungry serpents, consuming everything in their path.

This was my fucking home, my childhood, but without her, it never fucking will be again. Nothing ever will. It now seems like a fucking lie.

I stand there, frozen, my eyes fixed on the blaze as it consumes everything I’ve known. The heat intensifies, creeping closer, but I don’t move. My chest rises and falls with each breath, the fire mirrored in my eyes, wild and merciless.

Hell steps into my line of sight, pulling me out of the haze of wrath and halts in front of me, offering a small, knowing nod.

His expression remains calm, his presence grounding me.

“Now go fucking get her,” he says, voice steady, hand firm on my shoulder.

“We’ve got this here, bro. The Shadows will be on their way when they realize.”

“I know. That’s why I fucking did it,” I admit, my red eyes locking with his. “Now they’ll have to rethink everything.”

Hell steps forward, his hands finding both my shoulders and he looks me square in the eyes.

“They always said your Wrath would be disastrous,” he goes on. “But don’t let it mess with you now. Stay focused and remember exactly what the fuck you are. We might not be able to kill every monster out there, but the ones that built us? We’ll make them wish they never did.”

He flicks his head toward my bike, hinting for me to leave.