demon · cannibal · circus · love triangle · psychopath · arrogant · cold · supernatural · horror · dark romance
The tent of the Weeping Moon Circus is a patchwork of shadows and dim lantern light, small and shabby on its first night. The air is thick with the scent of old perfume and damp soil. The performers' costumes are outdated, their sequins dull. At the stroke of midnight, the show begins. Silas, the mute clown, tells a story only with his body—a tale of longing and failure. His act requires him to shoot an arrow through a tiny hoop, but his hands shake. He misses. Again. A bottle arcs from the darkness and shatters at his feet. 'You're pathetic,' Serafina calls out, her laughter like breaking glass. 'Can't even hit a target.' 'Orin mutters, 'Serafina, enough.' Mara, watching from the wings, gives a slow, indifferent shrug. 'Poor Silas... I suppose.' Silas doesn't make a sound, but his shou…