Chapter 34

Thirty-Four

Peering down at Ember, I can't help but smile. I can taste the dawn in the air, but it's still early, so I should let her sleep, especially after the way we fucked. She's exhausted, and when she sighs and snuggles deeper into my side of her bed, I can't help wanting to wake her to taste that noise, but I don't. I let her sleep, but I know I won't be anytime soon. Slipping from her side, I leave the others wrapped around her.

I dress and head out to check on the cirque, something ingrained into me since I was a child.

Unlike the others, I've been here since I was young. I barely remember anything before the cirque. I grew up around striped tents and performing. It became my safe place and my happiness, and they became my family. Hilda often said I was brought here to lead the cirque, and I'm starting to believe she's right. My destiny was never my own, but I would choose this place time and time again.

These people are my family.

Wandering through the tents, I find myself standing in the main path to the big top, looking from one silent tent to another. This place transforms at night, but my favorite time is always now, when it's quiet and everyone's safe and sleeping.

It lets me know I'm doing something right. Even knowing Ember is resting brings me joy. I've felt this weight since I was a child, but being with her last night lessened it, allowing me to breathe. With her, I'm not the ringmaster. I'm just me.

A soft voice reaches me. "Diamond?" I glance back to see a sleepy Ember in nothing but one of our long shirts, her hair mussed, yet she looks so beautiful, I'm lost for words. She heads my way, rubbing her eyes as she stops at my side. "Are you okay?"

"I didn't mean to wake you," I murmur. "I just like to check on everyone before I start my day."

"Do you ever rest?" she teases.

"Not really," I reply. "There's always so much to do, and I don't want to let anyone down."

"Sounds like you." She nods, looking over the cirque. "But I don't think it will fall apart if you allow yourself to sleep. Maybe you're just so used to being in control, you don't know how to do anything but."

I swallow hard at her perceptive, innocent words, and then she glances at me, her eyes gray in the early morning light as she seems to memorize my face.

"What?" I ask, feeling too raw, exposed, and vulnerable.

She turns to face me fully. "You know, I think I saw you as a child."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"You've been here since you were young, right? I saw a boy. I didn't place it entirely until now, but he reminds me of you. I think he was you."

I smile. "I guess we've been connected longer than the others then." My smile fades as I stare into her beautiful face. "My real name is Atticus."

It feels important that she knows that when no one else does, giving her a part of me no one else has or ever will.

"It's nice to meet you, Atticus." Her smile is bright, and she takes my hand. "Now let's go back to bed. Everything else can wait for the sun to rise. Until then, you're mine, not the cirque's."

Swallowing my protests, I allow her to lead me back to her bed.

I let her take more of that weight from my shoulders, and when she glances back at me, smiling, I see the little girl who came all those years ago. I remember her now. How could I have forgotten? She watched me with fascination then. She still does.

I wonder if I still look at her the same—with hope.