Taming the Lion (The Misfit Cabaret #4) Read Online Aria Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: The Misfit Cabaret Series by Aria Cole
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
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I know better than to engage. I know better than to let anyone in. But as the heat from his flames washes over me, I feel something stir deep inside—something I thought I’d long buried.

The applause rises again, but I’m already moving, turning my back on the fire and the man who wields it. I have no time for games, no time for desires that can only lead to ruin.

But as I walk away, the memory of his gaze lingers, a burn that won’t easily fade.

The applause is still ringing in my ears as I step out of the ring, the taste of victory sweet on my tongue, though I remain as detached as ever. Zeus trails beside me, his massive form a comforting presence. His golden mane brushes against my thigh, reminding me of our unbreakable bond—one that’s kept me anchored when everything else has threatened to pull me under.

But as I exit the spotlight, something new draws my attention. The crowd’s energy shifts, and I follow their gaze to the next act.

Alex.

There’s no denying the instant pull he commands. The lights dim as the ring transforms into a stage for his fire, and I feel the temperature rise, though I’m certain it has nothing to do with the flames he’s about to unleash.

He strides into the center, every movement fluid, confident, commanding. The fire torches in his hands flicker to life, casting an orange glow that dances across his bronzed skin. My breath catches as I see him clearly for the first time—his body is chiseled perfection, muscles honed from hours of grueling practice, each ripple a testament to his strength and control. Control that, for a moment, I imagine being on the receiving end of.

I shake the thought away, chastising myself for the slip. I’ve sworn off this kind of distraction. No entanglements. No weakness.

But then Alex exhales, sending a plume of flame into the air, and the heat seems to ripple outwards, touching every part of me. The flames are nothing compared to the fire in his eyes when they lock onto mine across the ring.

Damn.

I can’t help the way my pulse quickens, the way my skin prickles under his gaze. It’s as though his eyes are stripping away every layer of protection I’ve built, searching for the vulnerability I keep buried deep. And for a second, just a second, I wonder what it would feel like to let someone in again.

I stiffen, pulling back from the thought as though I’ve touched a live wire. No. I refuse to be that woman again, the one who lets her guard down and ends up shattered. My hands clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms, grounding me.

But it’s impossible to ignore the way Alex moves, the way the firelight dances off his bronzed skin, highlighting every defined muscle as he spins and twirls the flames. He’s pure sin, and the way he commands the fire, bending it to his will, sends a rush of heat through me that has nothing to do with the temperature in the tent.

Our eyes meet again, and this time, I don’t look away. The connection between us is magnetic, and I can’t fight it—not fully. The crowd fades into the background, their cheers and gasps a distant echo as Alex’s gaze pins me in place.

It’s dangerous, this pull I feel. But instead of running, I hold my ground, meeting his stare with one of my own, challenging him in silence. His lips curl into a slight smirk, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, as if he can sense the conflict raging inside me.

I hate that he sees me. Really sees me.

But I can’t deny it. There’s a flicker of something in me that I thought had been extinguished long ago, a spark that Alex has somehow reignited with nothing more than a glance. My breath catches, and I remind myself who I am—who I need to be. Strong. Unyielding. Unaffected.

Yet, as Alex swallows another mouthful of fire, his eyes never leaving mine, I feel my resolve waver. Just for a moment, but it’s enough to shake me. I want to touch him. I want to feel the heat of his skin against mine, to know if the fire between us is real or just another illusion.

But I don’t move. I can’t. Not yet.

So I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching him like he’s the flame and I’m the moth, desperately trying to resist the light that could burn me alive.

Chapter Two

Alex

The backstage area is dim, the shadows long and flickering under the muted glow of hanging bulbs. The chaos of the circus feels distant here, a muffled hum beyond the thick curtains that separate the performance from the preparation. I breathe in the scent of fuel and sweat, the familiar tang that grounds me, centers me. It’s almost time.


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