Star.

My chest tightened.

Star was another siren—one of the few who actually knew what she was. She hadn’t been at the circus long, sold to the ringmaster like the rest of us, but her arrival had been an event. Even without sight, I could tell how the others looked at her. She radiated a kind of beauty that drew men in like moths to a flame. Her voice alone could make even the cruelest of them hesitate before they hurt her. She was the third-most requested “freak” the men paid to touch and torment, but somehow, she’d managed to keep her spirit intact.

When I wasn’t being used or punished, I’d sit outside her tank and listen to her stories of the sea. Her voice always changed when she spoke about the waves—the salt in the air, the feeling of weightless freedom. It was the only thing in this cursed place that ever sounded alive.

So when I heard her name again, I crept closer, bare feet silent on the boards.

“Too many freaks are listening to Star’s stories,” the ringmaster said, his voice sharp, calculating. “Some are starting to rebel. I can’t get rid of too many at once. What should I do?”

“You should discard the girl,” another voice replied—cold, detached, like he was suggesting throwing out a broken tool.

“Discarding her is a little drastic,” a third man laughed, cruel amusement coating his tone. “I like how much she fights when we play.”

“Maybe,” the ringmaster admitted. “But I can’t have rebellion spreading.”

“You could sell her to one of us.”

“I’ll think about it,” the ringmaster decided, casual as ever. “For now, I’ll just isolate her from the rest of the freaks.”

“If you need somewhere to isolate her,” one of them added, mockingly cheerful, “I’ll gladly take her.”

Their laughter followed, thick and vile, cutting through me like glass.

I knew what isolation meant here. Star wouldn’t survive it—not with those men.

Deciding it was best not to stay in the ringmaster’s trailer any longer, I slipped out into the chilly night air. The chill bit into my exposed skin, scraping across the tender, handprint-shaped burns that still pulsed beneath the surface. I shivered, but not from the cold—it was the echo of his touch still clinging to me.

The night wind carried the scent of sawdust, smoke, and faint perfume from the performers’ tents, a haunting blend of life and illusion. Still, compared to what would’ve happened if I’d stayed, the sting of the air was a mercy—one I was almost afraid to accept.

Before overhearing that conversation, I’d planned to go straight to my trailer. I wasn’t in the mood for anyone to see me in this flimsy, torn dress—or the bruises and burns I knew painted my skin beneath it. But if I didn’t warn Star, they would seize her by morning.

So instead of turning toward safety, I turned toward the freaks’ tent.

The circus grounds were quiet now, but not peaceful. The silence here was never clean. It breathed, heavy and haunted, thick with the echoes of laughter that wasn’t real. The air reeked of sawdust, cheap liquor, and stale popcorn, with the faintest hint of copper—blood that no amount of washing ever truly erased. Every sound carried: the distant rattle of a loose tent flap, the groan of the carousel as it slowed in the wind, the low hum of a generator. The circus slept, but the monsters that ran it never really did.

I hadn’t made it far before two figures stepped out of the shadows, blocking my path.

Their boots crunched against the dirt, the sound sharp and deliberate. I didn’t need to see them to know who they were—their presence alone was enough. The air around them burned hotter than the torches that lined the ringmaster’s stage, the scent of smoke, ash, and something darker clinging to their skin. The Phynix twins.

Even without sight, I could feel the way they moved—mirrored, deliberate, predatory. One always circled while the other waited, ready to strike. They were beautiful and terrible in equal measure, the kind of men whose danger came not from chaos but control. Their heat licked against my frozen skin, soothing the burning handprints that still marked me. It was almost cruel, how good that warmth felt.

I could feel their eyes dragging over me, mapping every tear in my dress, every bruise and frost burn their friend had left behind. The silence between us thickened until one of them broke it, his voice a low snarl curling with mockery.

“What are you doing near our tent, slut? Looks like you already got lucky… unless you’re out here hunting for another man to fuck you.”

The word slut hit like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. I’d been called worse by better monsters.

“Actually, I’m looking for Star,” I said evenly, deciding there was no point in lying.

The moment her name left my lips, the air shifted. One of them lunged forward, his hand closing around my throat so fast I didn’t even have time to gasp. His grip tightened, crushing the air from my lungs. Like when the ringmaster did it, I didn’t fight—I simply went limp. Struggling only made them crueler.

“That angel’s name,” he hissed, his breath hot against my ear, “should never leave your sinful mouth, slut.”

My fingers twitched at my sides. “You seem to really admire her,” I rasped, my voice hoarse but steady.

“Damn right we do,” the other one said, his tone laced with venom. “For one, she isn’t a whore like you. And two—she’s going to burn this circus to the ground and set us all free. You can tell the ringmaster that, too.”

His hand released me, and I stumbled back, clutching my throat as air rushed painfully into my lungs. My voice trembled when I spoke, though I tried to keep it even.

“I still need to see her.”

They didn’t answer. For a moment, I thought they’d attack again, but a voice—soft and strong enough to command even them—cut through the tension.

“It’s fine, boys. If she wants to speak to me, let her. I doubt she can do anything to hurt me.”

Star’s tone was calm, but I could hear the undercurrent of power in it—the kind that didn’t come from the circus or the ringmaster’s games, but from something older, deeper. “Why don’t you two go back to your habitat while I talk to her?”

The twins hesitated, then obeyed. Their footsteps faded into the night, leaving behind the ghost of their heat. For a second, anger flared hot in my chest. They had always hated me—ever since they arrived. I shouldn’t have cared, but the ease with which they obeyed her stung more than I wanted to admit. They saw her as hope. They saw me as filth.

I swallowed the bitterness down as Star stepped closer. Even without sight, I could feel the shift in the air around her—like the sea breeze she always spoke of. Calm and powerful. Dangerous if you don’t respect it.

“Are you okay?” I asked, managing to keep my tone soft. “I heard the ringmaster say you and Rin were the ones replacing me.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” she said, her voice gentler now. I could feel her gaze traveling over me, and unlike the twins, hers wasn’t cruel. It carried pity—and that almost hurt worse.

“I’m fine,” I lied quickly. “I just wanted to warn you. The ringmaster plans to isolate you in the morning while he decides whether or not to discard you.”

“Well,” she said simply, “thank you for the warning.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see it, and turned to go. But before I could take a step, her voice stopped me again.

“You know,” she said, “you could join us.”

I froze. “Join you?”

“Yes.” Her tone was quiet but certain. “You know things none of us do. The ringmaster’s routines, his secrets, his weaknesses. We could use that.”

I shook my head. “That’s not a good idea. Most of the freaks hate me.”

“No,” she said softly, “they hate the Nix—the puppet the ringmaster forces you to be. Not the girl underneath.”

Her words struck something deep within me, something I thought had long died. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

“Think about it,” she murmured. “The offer still stands.”