The Pact Carnival Row Novels & Stories

Carl asked, eying another girl whose face was painted like a butterfly. “You bet,” I smiled at him. I had to admit, the parent’s association had done a wonderful job of the carnival, which was a big school fundraiser. There were several small rides, a pony riding station, face painting, carnival games with prizes, and both popcorn and cotton candy stations. They’d completely transformed the entire field into a fun-filled plethora of assorted activities.

A carnival. Not just any carnival, either—it looked like something out of a movie. Giant Ferris wheel spinning lazily against the night sky, music playing from distant speakers, kids laughing, strings of colorful lights zigzagging overhead. The smell of popcorn, grease, and cotton candy hung thick in the air. Ricci stepped out first and came around to open my door like some fucking gentleman. “You coming?” I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “A carnival?” He smirked. “You were expecting a five-star restaurant?”

Just paused like a glitch in a movie. “What?” I said, because apparently that was the only word I could remember. “You heard me.” Hilda crossed her arms, voice steady. “Forget Brandon. Come with me. We’ll make this deal work on a different scale. Bigger. Cleaner. No emotional strings, no interference from his side. You and me. Public partnership. Private freedom. You get the benefits, I get the control I want, and you can still—” She waved a hand. “Do what you want on the side. I don’t care.”

Noah's POV The evening sun casted it's warm glow on us as we walked to my apartment. I relayed all that happened in the past few days and sighed before smiling. Yes, I accidentally conjured a demon into my apartment but it's not so bad on most parts. "Hey dude, what's this by the way?" I asked pointing to a sigil like tattoo that I had noticed on my wrist. "It's the mark of our pact." He said as he gazed up to the evening sky.

“I need a mortal assistant. The rewards for your service will be great- I can give you anything you desire. Just say the word, Callie. Promise to serve me.” The gravity of the situation hit me full on like an asteroid. I felt the blood drain from my cheeks as I stared out across the thinning countryside, giving way to suburbs. Against my will or not, I'd made a pact with the Devil- “No, I'm not. I'm much worse.”

His aura reeked of danger, indifference and cold, his eyebrows arched as if to dare Mr Rowens to interfere. Patrick Rowens withdrew immediately, he knew better than to go against the ruthless Yama. Daisy's smirk fell, her vision of liberation became bleak. At the end, Cara made them kowtow to her, Coco even went as far as making videos. Out of the trio, Laureen was the most embarrassed. After the fiasco, Cara went away with a total sum of two hundred million, she happily received the check smiling brightly like a child.

Harbor City's Midtown Plaza had sealed off a quarter of their parking lot and invited a cheesy carnival to come and steal money from the residents of the city in the guise of entertainment. Crazy lights, loud, obnoxious music, and barkers calling out to everyone who passed by, enticing them to come lose their money on a game of chance. Trace thought it was perfect for a date with Giselle. He hoped to win her one of those giant stuffed animals that boyfriends lug around the carnival in order to impress the girl who didn't really need impressing. Yet, he needed to impress Giselle. He may never get another chance with a girl again. Not with his luck, that is. Or his lifestyle.

It grew louder and louder the closer we got. I leaned forward in my seat of the car, squinting my eyes to see where the music was coming from, my curiosity now bubbling up within me. “Umm, quick question. This carnival, it’s supposed to be different, right?” Veronica smirked, her eyes glinting in the light. “Oh, it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before. This isn’t just a carnival; it’s The Carnival.” I nodded, and just then, as the music grew louder, we rounded a bend in the fancy road, the headlights illuminating a large, ornate signboard:

“We don’t ask you to like us. Just to stand with us. We’ll share word of any sign—magic, beast, or man. If you need help, call. If we need help, we’ll call for you.” Callum considers this, then nods once—slow, deliberate. “A pact, then. For the coming dark. But don’t mistake necessity for trust, Rowan. Not yet.” I give a sly grin. “Trust is earned, Alpha. But necessity? We’ve got that in spades.” The betas relax—slightly. Someone passes around a flask. The ritual is done: not friends, not yet, but no longer enemies. At least for now. As we head back toward Silverpine, the moon rises, pale and watchful through the trees. Mara walks beside me, voice low. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day Iron

"W–wait, wait, hold on, Rowan, you know how people get when they’re drunk; they say stuff they don’t mean later. It was consensual, I swear!" Rowan turned toward him slowly, blood dripping from his knuckles onto the carpet. Whatever Carlisle saw in his expression silenced the rest of his excuse. He took a shaky step back, hands raised again, his smile gone. "I d–didn’t even touch him, man; I was just watching, I swear." Patrick, inching toward the window, froze when Rowan’s gaze shifted to him next. The room had turned unnaturally quiet, except for Alex’s wet, gurgling whimpers and Atlas’s shallow breaths against Frank’s neck.