Beyond the Curtain

12 | rule 108

RULE 108: DO NOT OWN A PHONE.

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Ignoring what Rowan had said, I tried my best to carry on how I had intended: I started a bath while trying to think of a better job-seeking game plan. I didn't want to outstay my welcome past the extra day Rowan had extended my hotel reservation, but my options seemed fleeting.

Even if I somehow managed to land myself a job in the next twenty-four hours, I certainly would not have the cash to show for it. I would, in some part, still be dependent on Rowan.

If only he was crueler, then all of this wouldn't seem so bad. If only he was a personification of a beast, then I wouldn't feel the budding roots of guilt start to form in my chest.

To him, I was his soulmate—his mate. But to me, the word mate did not carry the same significance. Part of me wondered how things would be if I believed the same as him, the same as most other werewolves raised in the culture.

But my thoughts never carried me far. I would get caught up in his chiseled body and hair dark enough to border on being either too dark brown or just the perfect shade of black; I had yet to decide which it was. My mind would then wander, thinking of what his skin would feel like. Would he be soft to the touch or more weathered by the responsibility a title of Alpha would most certainly entail? Would he take care to savor my touch, or would he be impassioned by the heat of the moment, fervent with need?

None of the questions had any satisfying answers, because I never got to that part. Instead, I would curse my wayfaring thoughts. If what Rowan said was true about my wolf—about the possibility of being suppressed by it—then I didn't want to fall prey to these thoughts. They felt like a surefire gateway to building a connection with my wolf, and I was certain I was not strong enough, both mentally and physically, to weather that storm.

So, I would have to try my best to suppress my thoughts and any lingering desires about Rowan. But he was not making it the easiest of tasks.

While he did not hover, he also had not stayed away completely. He was there both when I had been abandoned by Miss Nymphadora and when my job search had taken a sour turn. He had given me enough breathing room in each situation, but he had not stayed away for long.

Why couldn't he just leave me alone? I wondered as I submerged my body into the scalding hot bath water.

As I plunged my body deeper into the tub, I couldn't help but feel so unequipped for a normal life. I had been raised for a life on the road, a life with the circus. I never had to wonder how to secure a roof over my head in any real sense. Part of my salary from the circus went straight to my rent, but Miss Nymphadora would never cut wages low enough for rent to be an issue.

When you lived a life without many of the finer things in life like a warm bath, you didn't even factor those things into your life. I never dreamed of soaking in a tub or wearing clothes that still had the original price tags. But now that these possibilities were feasible (in some far-off future), I couldn't help but crave the security of the circus.

Miss Nymphadora's circus had not been all rainbows and butterflies, but it had always been a stable place to call home.

And I was floundering without it.

I missed home. I missed the comfort of my thin mattress that had been conformed just right to my body, and I missed Julia's outlandish statements. I missed having to look over my shoulder to make sure Bones was not keeping his watchful nose on my whereabouts. I missed the smells of many of the different deep-fried foods. And most of all, I missed having the consistency of my performance.