Page 12 of Taming the Lion
Finally, she looks back at me, her eyes softer, but still guarded. “Fine. But this is about the animals, Alex. It’s not about us.”
I want to argue, to tell her that it’s always been about more than the animals. That it’s about her, too. About everything we’ve been through and the connection we both know is still there. But I bite back the words. Now isn’t the time.
“Agreed,” I say, though the unspoken words hang heavy in the air between us.For now.
The tension between us hasn’t disappeared, but there’s a shift, a reluctant acceptance that we’re stuck with each other in this. We’re both fighting the same battle, even if we’re doing it for different reasons. And as much as I want to break down the walls she’s built around herself, I know better than to push. Not now. Not when she’s barely holding it together.
“We need to make a plan,” she says, her voice more controlled now. “We can’t keep reacting. We need to get ahead of whoever’s doing this.”
I nod, grateful that she’s focusing on the problem again. “Agreed. I’ve been looking into the pattern of the disappearances, trying to figure out where they might strike next.”
She watches me carefully, and I can see the doubt in her eyes, but there’s something else there too. Trust, tentative and fragile, but there. She’s letting me in, just a little. And for now, that’s enough.
As we stand there, side by side, I can feel the weight of the circus pressing down on us, the animals, the fear, the ticking clock of whatever danger is closing in. We’re running out of time, but for the first time in a while, I don’t feel like we’re completely alone in this fight.
Sophia lets out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Alright, Alex. Let’s figure this out.”
There’s no turning back now.
Chapter Nine
Sophia
My heart thuds in my chest as Alex and I make our way through the maze of trailers, the night pressing in around us. The sounds of the circus—usually comforting in their familiarity—are distant, hollow now, as if the very air is holding its breath, waiting. We’ve been chasing leads for days, piecing together clues that point to someone inside, someone who knows the animals, knows us. Someone I thought I trusted.
I can feel the tension in Alex beside me, the way his muscles coil tight, ready for whatever we’re about to find. We’ve spent sleepless nights unraveling this mess, and now, here we are, on the edge of something that will change everything. I don’t want to believe it—can’t believe it—but the evidence has been mounting. All signs point to one of our own.
The closer we get to the trailer, the harder it is to breathe. The circus has always been chaotic, filled with misfits and outcasts, but it was family, a place where I thought trust still meant something. Now, that trust feels fragile, like the thin veneer of happiness we project during our performances. I glance at Alex, his face set in determined lines, and even though we’re not talking, I can feel the same weight hanging between us.
It’s all about to change.
We reach the trailer, the door cracked open just enough for us to slip inside. My hands tremble, a mix of anger and disbelief bubbling in my chest. I’ve laughed with this person, worked side by side with them. And now… now I have to accept that it was all a lie.
Alex gestures for me to stay close, his movements quick and calculated. He’s in detective mode, and for the first time, I’m grateful for it. I need that detachment from him right now. If I let myself feel too much, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together.
Inside, the trailer is dimly lit, the air stale. Papers are scattered across the small table, ledgers, contracts, and what looks like animal transport records. My breath catches in my throat as I scan the documents, my eyes landing on something that makes my blood run cold: a detailed plan for selling off more animals. There, in black and white, is Zeus’s name.
Zeus.
I freeze, my mind racing, the horror of it crashing into me like a wave. My hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles white. If we hadn’t uncovered this, if we had been just a day later… Zeus could’ve been gone. Sold off like some object, reduced to nothing but a number on a ledger.
The thought sends a sharp jolt of rage through me, stronger than anything I’ve felt in a long time. My vision blurs for a second as I struggle to keep it together. I can’t lose him. Not him. I’ve already lost too much.
I turn to Alex, and for the first time, I see the same shock mirrored in his eyes. He’s usually so composed, so controlled, but even he’s rattled. This betrayal isn’t just about the animals—it’s about the circus, about everything we’ve built here. And it’s about trust. My trust.
I feel sick.
“How… how could they do this?” I whisper, my voice trembling. “How could someone I know… someone I’ve trusted…”
Alex shakes his head slowly, his expression dark. “I don’t know, but we need to move fast. They’ll know we’ve found this.”
I swallow hard, trying to push down the surge of emotions threatening to break free. There’s no time for that. We have to act. But all I can think about is how close I came to losing Zeus, how I never saw this coming. The betrayal stings, raw and unforgiving, and it’s like a wound I don’t know how to heal.
I step back from the table, the documents still burning in my mind, and the room tilts for a second. How did I not see it? How did I not realize that someone close to me was capable of this?
Suddenly, the anger flares up again, hot and fierce. I clench my fists, my body shaking with the force of it. “We trusted them,” I say, my voice tight. “We let them into our lives, and they used us. They used the animals.”
Alex steps closer, his presence grounding me, even though I don’t want to admit it. “Sophia, I know this hurts, but we can’t let this stop us. We’ve got what we need. Now we stop them before they can do more damage.”
