Page 9

Wrath

Sitting on my bike in the main tent, I watch her with Noir, trying to work on some possible talents. My gaze is locked, fixed and tracking every movement she makes. The way her body twists and fights for control. She doesn’t belong here, not yet, but she’s trying. Hard.

She looks good in that costume, too fucking good, with the black and gold clinging to every line of her body, the paints disguising her face like some eerie, beautiful nightmare.

My beautiful nightmare.

I wanted to tell her that. I wanted her to hear it straight from me that I think she looks perfect as an Oddity girl and I believe she belongs here, with me, with us. If I could’ve said it, I would’ve. But instead, like always, I stayed quiet and wrote whatever insanity left my mind in that moment.

And in return, she did what she seems to do best—tested my fucking patience.

I’m a muted, twisted fucker carved from silence and death. Her? She’s the stubborn pulse of life, defying the quiet I bring. If I’m the grave, she’s the rotting body still scratching its way out, refusing to stay buried.

She thinks she can fight me and survive in my world by spitting in its face, but I’ll keep her chained in my darkness, drag her into the depths where her disobedience will wither and die.

My fingers twitch, the usual disturbed urge slithering under my skin. I want to rip that corset right off her little body with my damn teeth, sink them in, leave my marks imbedded into her flesh and make her feel every second of what she’s doing to me.

Slow. Agonizing. Torture.

Or maybe I’ll be rough, swift and violent.

Ramming my cock so far inside her asshole she’d black out from the intensity, allowing me to continue screwing her while she’s limp. I guess that could still be classed as some form of sick torture if you're the type who looks into it too much—if you have a normal mind. But unfortunately for her, I don’t.

We’re all a little odd here.

And that’s the type of pleasure and pain I deliver.The sadistic, weird shit no one likes to talk about in the outside world. The kind that festers in the back of your mind, rotting, pulsing, begging to be unleashed. And I can’t fucking stand it anymore. It’s only a matter of time before I snap and take exactly what I want.

I’m gonna stain that soul so fucking dark, not even time will dare touch or erase it. I’ll bury myself so deep inside her, she’ll feel me carved into her bones for eternity.

I don’t just want to dismantle her—I want to build her into something only I can tame and violate.

“Not you too,” Soul grumbles, rolling up beside me on his own bike, his voice edged with amusement. “I’m losing another brother, ain’t I?”

My jaw clenches, teeth grinding as I whip my head toward him, fingers moving in quick, irritated signs against my thigh and his gaze drops to the movement.

How about fuck off? I only fuck dead cunt, remember? Does she look hung in my chains to you?

Soul barks out a laugh, deep and dark, his grin splitting his face too wide. His neon green eyes flick back to her, dragging over her body, and I already know he’s about to piss me off.

“To be fair, when she got here, she looked a mess, weak even, but now?” He groans, gripping his cock through his sweats. “Now she looks like one of us, I’d fucking run through her.”

Something new flares hot and furious inside me. It spreads like wildfire, burning deep. Is this what jealousy feels like? Possessiveness?

I. Don’t. Fucking. Like. It.

Before I can process everything or even decide whether to break his fucking fingers for speaking about her like that, Soul lifts his chin, letting out a sharp whistle.

“Yo, new girl!” His loud, obnoxious voice cuts through the tent.

She turns, pretty golden eyes locking onto us, darting between me and Soul. He gestures for her to come over, slow and casual, like he’s fucking summoning her.

I inhale deeply, my grip tightening on one handle of my bike.

I’m gonna kill him.

I hesitantly look at her, watching as she glances at Noir, who looks suspicious, like she already knows this is a bad idea. But stupidly, my little corpse starts walking toward us.

My gaze drags over her as she moves, tracing the shape of her body, the way the corset cinches her waist and how her fishnet-covered legs carry her with a confidence she shouldn’t have yet.

She stops in front of Soul, and the fucker grins, holding out his hand and she side-eyes me first before slipping hers into his.

“Look at you,” Soul growls, tugging her closer before spinning her around like he owns the right to inspect her.

He takes his time, and I catch the small, flattered smile on her lips. She likes the attention, but she doesn’t know Soul like I do. He’s not just playing—he’s doing this to fuck me off and prove a point.

“Have you been given a name yet?” He asks, his green spirals flashing up to hers from behind his white, blonde hair.

She nods, glancing at me again before returning her focus to him.

“Aurelia.”

Aurelia? No. She should have been called Allure —because that’s exactly what she is.

A walking temptation, a fucking spell I can’t shake. She’s got me locked in some kind of trance, and I don’t know whether I want to fall to my knees and worship her or kill her because of it.

“Well, Aurelia,” Soul grins, tilting his head toward the Globe of Death as it’s wheeled inside. “I see they’re teaching you tricks, but how about I show you a trick of my own?”

“A trick?” she asks, head tilting slightly, curiosity sparking behind her golden gaze.

“Yeah,” Soul hums, his grin widening. “Here at Oddity, I’m the king of tricks. But out there, I’ve got even more. Tricks you wouldn’t believe. Tricks that would make your fucking thighs sha…”

I know exactly where this is fucking going.

The growl rips from my chest before I even think, my hand shooting out to her wrist. I yank her into me, her small frame slamming against my hard body and a soft gasp leaves her lips. My fingers dig into her waist, and without hesitation, I lift her, her weight damn near nothing in my hands.

I dump her ass onto my seat, facing me, exactly where she belongs. Her thighs drape over mine with her warm pussy pressed against my cock and her breath hitches, her eyes wide—startled by my sudden rage.

I glance at Soul as he rolls away with a light chuckle.

“Fucking knew it!”

I track his every move with narrowed eyes, muscles coiled tight, waiting for the next reason to rip his throat out. But then she shifts, trying to get off the bike, and my attention snaps back to her.

Before she can slip away, my hands clamp down on her ass, fingers digging in as I drag her further into me. The swift motion forces her closer, so close that her rapid, shaky breaths fan against my lips.

Her palms press against my chest, trembling, pushing—wanting to escape me.

But she can’t because my stare locks her in place, dark, daring and hypnotizing. The tent falls completely silent around us, the kind that tightens throats and steals air, and I can feel it—the shock inside every motherfucker watching.

No one… no one has seen me with a girl like this. Ever.

Not with my body caging hers like I own it and have every fucking right to it. Yeah, they’ve undoubtedly heard the horror stories about me. I see it in the way the girls flinch when I get too close.

But Aurelia, she’s different. There’s something about her, something that’s got my balls in a fucking vice, twisting, tightening.

And I despise it. But not enough to stop.

So I ignore the stares, let the whispers buzz in the background like flies circling fresh rot because my focus is on her and the way she looks so alive in my hands when I touch her against her will.

I watch her throat bob before her chin lifts, her gaze flicking between my lips and eyes.

“Take your fucking hands off me and let me go,” she bites out, teeth gritted, but quiet enough for only us to hear.

I don’t respond, of course. Instead, I act. My hands move over the curves of her ass, fingertips dragging harshly over her fishnets, tugging at the gaps as I trail down the backs of her thighs. I grip tight behind her knees, forcing her to wrap her legs around my waist.

She’s about to fight me again, until something catches her eye to the right, and we both turn our heads. Madame stands at the entrance, smoking, watching us with a gaze that peels back layers.

With Aurelia’s hands now gripping my shoulders, she breathes heavily in my ear before glancing down at the tiny space between us, shifting cautiously like she’s trying to get comfortable, but all she does is make it worse for herself.

My cock is already rock solid in my sweats, standing to attention from the fucking closeness and heat. When it twitches against the curve of her pussy like it has a mind of its own, she jerks at the contact and lifts herself quickly, but I clamp a hand on her hip, pinning her down, forcing her to feel my pulsing need.

I reach for the handle of my bike with the other and rev the engine, the growl of it vibrating between us. Aurelia lifts her head, lips dangerously close to mine, her eyes sweeping over my face.

“Careful poking me with that thing, circus boy. Would be a mighty shame if you lost it, wouldn’t it?” she murmurs, voice dripping with something that makes my blood scorch.

Naive. Little. Fucking. Corpse.

Two seconds. That’s all it’d take to rip off those panties, bend her over my bike and show her exactly how useful that thing could be for her tight cunt. It’s clear she needs a good hard fucking into the cold ground straight down to hell. It might just tone that bravery down a notch.

She can take my dick. Hell, I’d offer it to her on a silver fucking platter, wrapped in a pretty blood-red bow, just to watch her reaction. Wouldn’t stop me from shoving other things inside her body though. She might as well take my tongue, my fists, and my fucking madness while she’s at it.

Actually, she’s gonna have to kill me. Yeah. That’s her only hope because I’m not stopping. Not until she’s screaming my name like it’s the only goddamn thing keeping her alive.

She wants to fight me? Fine. But if she wants to win—she’ll have to bury me her fucking self.

Aurelia likes to act unruly, a small bitchy rascal with far too much to say, but I saw the way her body betrayed her—tense, breathless and turned the fuck on. I swear, if I jammed my fingers into her panties right now, she’d still be drenched from our earlier interaction.

She can lie with her lips, but not with that dripping, begging cunt.

Itfucking aches. It’s deceiving her. And I haven’t even started.

Her sharp words didn’t line up with the way she looked at me. She’s intrigued by the evil motherfucker that I am, even if she won’t admit it, and that makes this push and pull between us not just harder to resist, but so much more pleasurable to break her with.

Instead of giving her the reaction she clearly wants, I snarl and look forward, jerking the bike just enough to make her cling tighter, arms and legs locking around me.

Billy opens the Globe of Death door, and I ride up the ramp before entering.

“What… What is this?” she murmurs by my ear, and the sound nearly drives me insane. There’s fear in her voice now, laced with confusion, and somehow it becomes my one of my favorite fucking things to hear spill from that bratty mouth.

Waiting for the door to close and the lights to turn red, I wrap my arm around the small of her back, pulling her in closer, making it clear she needs to stay locked and still if I’m going to keep this damn bike steady.

I’m deemed the best motorcyclist here, I’ve pulled off more solo acts than I can count, but I’ve never done this with someone on the front of my bike. I’ve seen Soul do it a hundred times and make it look easy. But this isn’t practice. I either nail this straight off the bat, or I fucking kill us both.

As soon as the globe glows red and the bass from the music drops, deep and bone-shaking, I roar the engine, hands gripping the bars tight. The cage vibrates beneath the tires, steel groaning like it knows what’s coming.

She buries her face into the side of my neck, her arms locking around me, clutching like a good girl who finally understands how serious this could be.

Then, without warning, I move. I twist the throttle and take off, riding the bottom of the globe in a tight circle and the momentum builds with every pass, the world blurring. I start to angle upward, the tires gripping the wall, and I begin to climb.

Soon we’re suspended sideways, flying along the vertical curve of the globe like gravity forgot about us. In the center of the globe, we’re spinning, hard, fast, relentless with her body melting against mine.

The heat, the tension and the trust is all twisting together between us and I feel every tremble she tries to hide, her nails biting into my shoulders, breaking skin.

I should be focusing on the route and our survival, but all I can think about is the way her lips brush my throat, like I’m the only thing tethering her to this world.

We’re defying death in a cage built to kill. And I swear, in this moment, I’ve never felt more a fucking live with her wrapped around me. But I want more. I wantherto feel it. I want to hear that scream claw its way out of her pretty throat, raw and real and fucking mine.

So I do something reckless as always. I cut the throttle, just for a second and the bike stutters, dropping us a fraction too fast, the weight of us both slipping sideways on the curve. Her scream rips out instantly, sharp and panicked, echoing off the steel walls.

It’s everything I wanted. Beautiful, chaotic, fucking

perfect.

I hit the gas again and correct the slide, ascending with a violent burst of speed that rattles the cage.

Now we’re spinning toward the top, faster than we should, faster than is safe, but I don't give a fuck. This is how she learns: ride with Wrath or fall with him.

Suddenly she starts laughing and it hits like a shot of adrenaline straight to the chest, messing with something I thought was long dead. Her laugh builds, wild, loud and almost unhinged. She was supposed to be break. But now I don’t know who’s more of a nutcase. Me, or the girl clinging onto me, giggling like she was born for this fucking unruliness.

After a while of relentless spinning, I start to descend, guiding the bike down in tighter circles until we hit the bottom of the globe, and I kill the engine.

She doesn’t move at first, just breathes against my neck, hot and rapid. Then her head lifts, slow, like she’s waking up from something. Her eyes find mine straight away, glassy and blown wide, but it’s the faint smile on her black, full lips that draws my attention.

It’s gone the second she realizes she’s still wearing it. She clears her throat while facing aside, her mask slipping into place as if she didn’t just laugh for me and come alive in my hands. Then she turns her head to the side, looking past me and locks stares with Madame.

After a couple of seconds, her emotionless gaze glides back to me, slow and deliberate, scanning every inch of my painted face before she leans in. Her hands trail down my chest, smooth and unhurried, like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Not bad, circus boy,” she purrs, voice dipped and soaked in mockery as her pretty golden eyes sparkle with darkness. “You just gave me the best hard ride of my life.”

She’s testing me, and it’s fucking working. She’s either gone completely insane or she’s got a death wish. The way she spoke to me in that dressing room, it was clear she already knew what kind of sick fuck I am. And now she’s here, pushing, poking and dragging her mouth over my fuse like shewantsto feel the fucking eruption.

I can already feel my fingers tic on my thighs, my cock hardening in my sweats at the thought of strangling her, until Noir steps into view. Her presence yanks the moment out from under me like a trapdoor and just like that, I’m back in the cage.

Aurelia’s hands find my shoulders again as she slides off the bike, her eyes never leaving mine. The second she’s on her feet, she turns and strides off without a word, heading straight across the circus back to the girls like nothing happened, like she didn’t just light a fire under my skin and walk away from the burn.

I look down at my hands, fingers shaking and stretched out before I curl them into fists, nails biting into my palms.

As soon as Hell and Noir are gone, I’m gonna teach her a lesson she’ll never fucking forget.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I reach for it. As soon as the screen lights up, my red gaze sweeps over the words.

My jaw clenches as I dismiss it, pushing it back inside my sweats.

Outside of The Hollows trailer later that day, I stand at the back of Hell’s Mustang while he loads the trunk with bags.

“Everything is in your hands at Oddity, Wrath,” he says, dumping a bag down. “I’m leaving leadership to you while I’m gone.”

My teeth grind and I face away. I know exactly what he’s doing. He thinks if he piles enough shit on my back, maybe I’ll forget all about my little corpse.

Not. Fucking. Happening.

He turns his head, looking back at me while still shoving another bag into the trunk.

“You got this?”

I give him a faint nod, not meeting his eye or barely moving.

Noir leaving the trailer catches my attention and she stops outside, staring at me from a distance like she’s trying to read something in my face.

Her blue eyes sharpen, a quiet warning bleeding through as she stands there frozen. My jaw tightens as we hold our stare, but then Aurelia walks out behind her.

As she steps beside Noir, gaze locked with me like she’s not even trying to hide it, Noir says something I can’t hear. Aurelia doesn’t answer right away, but I can see it on Noir’s face, she’s doubtful about leaving her here with me. I don’t fucking blame her. She’s a smart girl, clearly. But she’s got no choice now.

Because once they’re gone, I’m fucking done being chained.

When Hell stands straighter, blocking my view, I look at him. He’s a few inches shorter than me, but no less horrifying to stare at. I raise my chin, playing nice, just wanting both of them to fuck off so I can finally have some twisted form of fun.

“I’ve got this here,” I say, calm and collected, hoping he takes the bait by hearing my voice.

I’ve thought about it a lot since the Globe of Death. Actually I can’t get it out of my fucking mind. Every time I try to focus, it circles back to her, and I kept hitting walls and bullshit obstacles, trying to figure out how I could scratch this aggravating itch inside me.

And then it clicked. I won’t kill my little corpse. Not if I can fucking help it anyway. Because dead girls don’t scream the way I need her to. I’ll be careful, like a good fucking boy, but it’s going to be no less terrifying for her.

As long as I don’t end up balls-deep inside that brat’s warm cunt, she should still be breathing when they get back. Just a little more broken. A little more obedient. And a hell of a lot more mine.

Hell looks me over, gives a subtle nod, then whistles at Noir. She glances his way, and he gestures for her to come over. Once he’s done, he turns back to me.

“If you need me, call me and I’ll be right fucking here,” he says, voice clipped.

I don’t respond and just walk past him, heading for the trailer. As I move, I lock eyes with Noir, not Aurelia—not yet. I keep my gaze fixed on her sister until I’m out of sight and stepping inside. Because the next time I look at my little corpse, I don’t plan on looking away.