Juliet & Her Romeos (Pack Bonds Omegaverse #8)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Romeo Ballet Academy, Sanctum

J uliet

“Are the rumors true that whoever wins the ballet contest will be bonded with the Romeo pack?” My dance partner and Beta best friend, Swan, smiles.

Swan’s silver flecked eyes are bright with joy against his warm brown skin.

He’s the most beautiful dancer in the academy. I’m lucky to have him as my mentor.

Swan has spent the last four years fighting for my right to dance, even though I’m the only Omega ballet dancer in America.

And he’s spent just as long protecting me against the Betas who don’t think that I deserve to have this chance .

“I don’t know if Mr. Ambrose is even back in Virginia,” I reply. “What if it’s only academy gossip? The ancient tradition of the Ballet Bonding Night is real. But Mr. Ambrose could be still in England, running his company’s European branch. I mean, hopefully.”

Yet I can’t help the rush of excitement that shoots through me. Nor the strong burst of pheromones.

I flush.

Shit, involuntary pheromones.

Embarrassing.

I shouldn’t want to bond with Ambrose Romeo.

So, why do I?

I’m an Omega. I love being one. And I can’t help that I long for a bonded pack.

I also can’t help the desire to finally have a nest of my own.

An Alpha.

A home.

I know, however, that the last pack in the world I should want to be claimed by is the Romeos.

“ Hopefully? ” Swan laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, fiery and passionate. “Convincing, JuJu.”

Swan is a force of nature. He’s wild and volatile. A creative genius.

A fucking volcano.

At the academy, we’re constrained by tight schedules. Every minute is ordered from when we wake up at 5 a.m. to curfew at 10 p.m., including mealtimes.

We’re not allowed outside the gates of the academy into the town of Sanctum.

The Dance Master, Miss Katerina, blames the criminal gangs who’ve been kidnapping the prettiest Omegas and Betas.

She says that we’re caged to keep us safe.

I don’t believe her.

Somehow, Swan still manages to break the rules: sneaking out after curfew to steal chocolate for the younger students, holding illegal midnight feasts, and one night that’s gone down in legend, hosting a riotous party with music, dancing, and alcohol stolen from the brutal choreographer who trains the male Betas, Mr. Dimitri’s, private stash.

Swan reappeared from his solitary confinement after that misbehavior with a wink and a swagger.

I was abandoned in this academy four years ago, when I was sixteen. But Swan was sold here by his pack, when he was barely out of kindergarten.

Yet he’s never been broken by this place.

I concentrate on my warm-up stretches to distract myself. I shiver in the cold of the shadowy practice room.

It’s abandoned.

Forbidden.

It’s also at the far end of the academy, however, where Swan and I are least likely to get caught.

We’re breaking the rules by fitting in extra practice together after curfew.

We’ll be punished, if we’re caught.

But the risk is worth it.

I’ve spent years being controlled and in fear within the walls of this academy.

In two weeks, however, I have the chance to dance on the stage in the R & J Choosing of the Principals contest.

Each couple will perform as Romeo and Juliet.

I’ll risk breaking my wings now, in order to fly from my cage then.

My nose wrinkles at the musty stench.

Dust lies as thick as the snow outside the windows over the antique, mahogany piano in the corner. The ceiling is low with creeping tendrils of damp. At the far side is a huge walk-in closet. A second, closed door leads to corridors on the other side.

The opposite wall is glass and looks out over the forest behind the academy. The red maples, ash trees, and Virginia pines are veiled in the night’s dark.

Moonlight illuminates the tips of the trees like silver stars.

I bite my lip.

My heart clenches, as I struggle to wrench away my gaze.

On the other side of those trees lies Romeo Hall.

Is Ambrose there now?

Does he remember me? He’s two years older than I am. We only know each other from stolen moments at high school.

So, why the hell does he feel like my Alpha?

I’ve been fostered into the Romeos now. But I’m originally from the Cinders.

The Cinders have been enemies with the Romeos for generations. We run the rival ballet company in Virginia.

And I still don’t know why my own family abandoned me with my enemies.

I force myself to stare into the floor-length cracked mirror, which rests in front of me, instead.

The mirror reflects fractured versions of myself back: slim and long limbed, with curly blond hair and startling lavender eyes.

I’m dressed in a thin black t-shirt with the purple rose emblem of the Romeos embroidered on it and black boxer shorts. My feet are bare on the icy wooden floor. Their soles are black with dust.

I lift my foot to rub at it with a grimace.

This is my sleepwear because I’m meant to be in bed. Swan and I both are.

But when do we ever do what we’re meant to?

We wouldn’t have survived, if we did.

There’s too much at stake.

When I raise my arms to stretch them, the Rej bracelet jangles.

I wrinkle my nose, hating the weight of the steel bracelet, which marks me out as a Reject Omega.

A twisted R hangs like an ugly charm from the bracelet, holding technology inside that will alert the government if I try to remove it.

There are two reasons to be marked as a Rej.

Be defective

Be rebellious.

The Academy marked me as a Rej 1, when I didn’t start having heats.

I’m judged defective because I’m infertile: A non-heat or NH.

The doctor said that the overly intense training practices had damaged my heats.

I was devastated.

It’s made me even more determined, however, to win this R & J contest. Also, desperate to escape the Romeo Ballet Company, who’ve already taken so much from me.

Swan is only wearing the same as I am.

When I glance at him, my cheeks redden further.

The tight, black t-shirt clings to his muscular but graceful dancer’s body, as Swan leans over the barre. He raises his leg behind him repeatedly in arabesque lifts. He has the same energy as if he’d just woken up, rather than already been through fourteen hours of exhausting rehearsals.

On the other hand, I’m ready to curl under my thin blanket in our bedroom.

I swallow, studying the way that Swan’s position emphasizes his strong back and lean legs. His thin underwear is pulled tight on each lift of his leg over his tight ass.

It would be a crime not to look at such a fine ass, right?

I pinch my lips, however, because he’s too thin.

Dimitri is starving him again.

Swan never tells me.

In fact, he tries to feed me his breakfasts and dinners, whenever he can.

But I can tell.

I know my best friend and dance partner better than anyone in the world.

He’s closer than family. We’re each other’s true pack.

Yet I can’t tell Swan that I’ve fallen in love with him because love between dancers is forbidden.

“Enjoying the view?” Swan asks without looking up.

How does he do that every time? Can he mind read my dirty thoughts?

“It is a lovely one, Feathers.” I smirk. “Why don’t you bend a little lower?”

Feathers is my nickname for my mentor. The other Betas think that it’s because he’s called Swan. It’s mostly because it’s so easy to ruffle his feathers.

I don’t have social media, Netflix, or dildos.

A girl needs to take her fun where she can.

Predictably, Swan growls in the way that sends chills down my spine and makes my pussy wet.

I push my thighs together.

Swan turns to look at me.

Swan has thick, inky black hair that falls over his face and curls at the base of his neck. He has dark brows and sharp cheekbones. He possesses a type of beauty that makes him look like he’s stepped out of an eighteenth century painting.

My breath hitches at the fire in his eyes.

“Or how about I remind you who’s in charge here?” Swan straightens, marching across the practice room in a way that thrills me.

I tilt up my chin. “That would be the little Omega.”

I like to play with fire, especially when I know that it’ll never burn me.

Swan’s beautiful silver eyes twinkle with amusement. “The mentee wants to take on the mentor, huh?”

He slams his hand on the mirror making it shake and caging me.

In the mirror, I look tiny next to him.

When Swan leans closer, his lemon and strawberry scent washes over me. It’s sharp and sweet at the same time, just like Swan is.

“You love a challenge,” I tease.

“As long as it helps us to win.” Swan’s gaze drops to my lips. His tongue darts out to wet his own. “When did you start calling Amby, Mr. Ambrose ?”

“When he became CEO and artistic director of this company. Around the time that both our futures could be made or wrecked by him.”

“I remember when you told me the story about being the Omega who rescued the enemy Alpha. You saved Amby from your cousin’s gang of Alpha bullies in high school, then Amby left you those cute little love notes. You know, the rose shaped ones that you keep hidden under your mattress still…”

“Shut up.” I blush.

“Make me.” Swan’s voice sounds half way between a snarl and a laugh.

I love the way that his lips curl up at one side, baring his teeth.

Fuck, I wish that he could bite my neck.

Bite and bond me.

Except, an Omega and Beta bonded pack is taboo.

They’re as forbidden as our love is. But I don’t care.

Swan and I are a pack in our hearts. We don’t need to say it out loud for me to know it.

The Dance Master can control our bodies but not our souls.

I tilt my head, pretending to think. “ Hmm , what about if I don’t save you from the roaches in dorm tonight?”

Swan’s eyes widen. “Cruel.”

Swan is scared of bugs. I’ve been his savior from them for the last four years. He’s simply been everyone else’s savior.

“Who’s in charge?” I cross my arms, enjoying the moment.

Swan takes a step back, before dramatically dropping to his knees. “You are, my Queen.”

I can’t resist running my fingers though his soft hair. “You’re my protector.”

“Obviously.” Swan leaps to his feet, towering over me again. “And I’ll protect you from Amby, if he returns from England the same Traditional Alphahole as his mom is. Don’t think I won’t kick his ass.”

Only Swan, a Beta, would talk in such a fierce way about fighting an Alpha.

His boss.

Plus, an elite billionaire, when Swan is poor and (apart from me), lowest status within our class.

I shudder.

Ambrose’s mom, Olivia Romeo, is the Alpha owner of this dance company.

She’s also Head Alpha.

She’s a Traditional who believes that Betas are no different to servants.

Us dancers are her pretty dolls.

We’re locked within this castle like academy, until we’re needed to dazzle and entertain wealthy packs on the stage. Then we’re put back in our box afterward.

I guess that makes us no different to the glittery costumes and props.

My breathing quickens in fear at the thought that Ambrose could have become like Olivia.

Concerned, Swan grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me into a hug. He wraps his strong arms around me, cradling my head.

“Sorry, JuJu.” Swan pulls me against his neck. I nuzzle him, breathing in his scent of lemons and strawberries. “Of course Amby will be the same uptight, possessive jock that he’s always been. A man who is so hot that it should be illegal. I mourn that I wasn’t allowed to attend high school and so missed out on seeing his ass in a jockstrap after football practice.”

“ That’s what you regret the most about not being allowed to go to high school?”

Trust Swan.

Members of the academy have classes within its stone walls. I’m lucky that I didn’t enter until I was sixteen and at least had most of my childhood feeling like I was an ordinary person.

I don’t anymore.

“It’s not like I miss math. But Amby’s ass, now I bet that’s a work of art.” Swan’s gaze heats. “The jock’s probably spent the last four years practicing that dominant face he pulls, plus his rumbling growl. So, we have that to look forward to.”

My breathing steadies. I lick at Swan’s neck in thanks.

I know that he’s joking to calm me. He’s become good at that.

Swan freezes, before relaxing against me.

I know the dominant look that Swan means. And how can I forget Ambrose’s growl?

Tall, golden haired, with unusual amber eyes.

I’ve tried to forget the high school quarterback who captured my heart.

I grew up in the enemy Cinders pack. No matter how much I’ve yearned for him, Ambrose will never select me as his Omega.

He won’t be allowed to.

Only, he wanted me when we were in high school, didn’t he?

Then why did Ambrose leave for England? Why did he abandon me, when I needed him the most?

“Amby is probably not even in America.” I allow myself to enjoy Swan’s touch.

My skin tingles.

I feel like I can barely draw in breath, when Swan is this close.

I’m desperate to scream: I love you, I love you, I love you…

But I can’t. And it’s killing me.

Does Swan love me too?

“Amby is here,” Swan says with his typical air of certainty. “He wouldn’t miss us having just turned twenty and our chance to become the most important dancers in the company, the principals.”

“Prima and primo,” I whisper. “Our dream, which we’ve worked toward all these years. No Omega has achieved it. But do you think that Amby remembers us?”

Outraged, Swan lets go of me.

He spins into the center of the room with such fluid grace that it seems like magic. “Are you saying that he could forget this ?”

I chuckle. “I couldn’t.”

“We’re fated. I keep telling you.”

Swan believes in myths .

I don’t have the heart to tell him that I used to believe in fairy tales.

I don’t anymore.

Ballets are filled with such stories, Cinderella , The Nutcracker , and Sleeping Beauty .

But ballets aren’t real.

They’re also equally filled with as many tales that end in tragedy: Romeo and Juliet , Swan Lake , and The Red Shoes .

What type would our love story be?

“How do you know that if Amby was here, he’d bond with us?” I demand.

Swan leaps in a breathtaking sequence toward me. “Because I’m the best.”

“Egotist.”

“Confident.”

“Cocky.”

When Swan leans closer, my heart beats faster. “Lovable.”

I love you.

I crave to whisper the words. I can see the whisper of them in Swan’s own eyes, but neither of us can voice them.

It’s too dangerous.

Then Swan quirks his brow. “Also, because you’re lovable.”

My mouth is dry. “Uh-huh.”

“Loyal, kind, and with a purr so pretty that you can probably summon Amby with it. You know, like in those smut novels about demon Alphas who are summoned by their Omegas, which Dimitri reads when he’s pretending to be reading Dostoevsky.”

I snort. “Dimitri is more likely to be reading PlayAlpha magazine with Omegas in bunny costumes, than reading Russian literature.”

Swan’s expression clouds. “I wonder if he drills us like we’re in the army to get out his pent up frustration. Dimitri’s mom is as tough with him as she is as a Dance Master. I bet that he kicks our asses because she won’t let him claim an Omega. It’s weird how Katerina calls herself our godmother and yet sucks at being a mom to her own son. Hey, at least I get to know what it’s like for Alpha marines. I should be proud of myself that I’m as strong as they are.” Unexpectedly, he grabs me by the waist and twirls me around. I gasp. “I will win Amby for us, my Ash Queen.”

“Don’t I at least get to be a Fairy Queen?” I look down at my tatty black t-shirt and dirty feet.

Actually, ash is probably right. It always has been.

“You’re a Cinders.” Swan pulls me against his hard chest. His heart is beating as fast as mine is. “There’s a lot of people who can be a Fairy Queen. What’s special about that, unless we’re talking about Dimitri’s fairy smut books? But there’s only one who’s my Ash Queen.”

“But that’s why—”

“I’m so handsome?” Swan cocks his head, and his dark hair falls over his eyes. “I know. It’s a burden. Now, what do you want for Christmas? It’s less than a week away.”

My chest tightens. “We’re not allowed to celebrate. You know that.”

“ Pfft , when has that stopped me? I’m going to host an awesome party for the kids. I may be planning to steal the Father Christmas outfit from the company’s costume department for The Nutcracker . I may also steal the decorations and toy props from the production. At least the kids will have one night to play with them. It’ll be my Christmas mission.”

“You’re a real thief, you know that?” I can’t stop grinning.

Swan’s the best man I know for creatively getting around both ethics and the limits of our lives here.

Swan beams proudly like I’ve complimented him. “Thank you.”

I tilt up my chin. “Count me in on your mission.”

Swan’s grin widens. “An accomplice thief. I’ve taught you well. So, what do you want for Christmas?”

A kiss.

Except, it hurts my heart that I can’t say that.

We’re both twenty. Yet we’re virgins who haven’t even been kissed.

I don’t want to share my firsts with anyone but Swan.

I force myself to look away from his plush lips.

Suddenly, Swan looks uncertain. “JuJu?”

“We’ll be dancing on the stage as Romeo and Juliet in the Choosing of the Principals on Christmas Eve.” My eyes burn with tears at the thought. For four damn years, I’ve waited for this chance. “The only thing that I want for Christmas is to become a prima ballerina like my mom was.”

“Then we’ll earn the right to our freedom.” Swan’s expression steels. “We’d only have to dance in the company for one more year.”

And that’s what this contest is truly about.

Winning when you turn twenty against the ruthless competition of your peers is the only way out of this academy.

Well, apart from bonding with an Alpha.

My voice is low. “Ever since I was little, I was told that no Omega could become a dancer, let alone a principal. Every single day that I practice, until my muscles ache and my toes bleed, I’m called nothing but a joke because no other Omega has been allowed this chance. No one thinks that I can do this.”

“I do.”

“You do,” I repeat, softly. “You’ve always been my champion.”

Swan’s the only person who believes in me.

“Becoming a principal means far more than proving every one wrong.” I haven’t admitted this out loud before. It’s hard, but I need to be brave. I trust Swan with this confession. “It means showing Omegas across America — the world — that they can achieve their dreams too. It means that little Omegas who love dancing but are laughed at, shamed, or told that they’ll never make it on a stage, can at least know in their hearts that’s not true.”

Swan cups my cheek, turning my face up to meet his intense gaze. “We’re going to win because you’re the most breathtaking dancer that I’ve ever seen.”

My eyes burn.

He means it.

I struggle to keep looking into his silver eyes. I feel like I can see his soul.

“I thought that was you,” I murmur.

“I’m the best Beta, but you’re simply the best.” Swan’s hand strokes down to my neck. My breath catches. He sniffs at my throat. “Fuck, I love your chocolate cherry scent. Dance with me, my Ash Queen.”

Swan loops his arms around me and twirls me.

I laugh, overwhelmed by the joy of our connection.

We have an ease of familiarity in each move.

We know each other’s body and every step. It’s like we’re two halves of one soul.

Swan supports me, as if he’s an extension of my own body.

When he begins to lead me through the Love Dance from Romeo and Juliet by Prokofiev, which we’ll be dancing on Christmas Eve to earn our freedom, it’s like Swan’s volcanic heat cools to water.

We’re fluid and effortless, as one.

We don’t need music because we have the music of our bodies. Our bare feet beat out a rhythm on the wooden floor. Dust blooms around us.

We make this forgotten, run-down practice room beautiful with our Love Dance.

We bring it to life.

A calm happiness settles over me. I purr, instinctively.

Dancing together, in this pas de deux, I’m at my most joyous.

It’s my secret pleasure.

Emotions surge through me like a drug. It’s exhilarating.

The pas de deux between two dancers is hard. It requires immense trust and communication. You need the confidence that if you’re lifted, you won’t be dropped.

When we’re in class, Miss Katerina raps her cane against the floor, scolding us for technical skills: posture, balance, and coordination.

But that’s not what my body sings, when I’m leaping into Swan’s arms.

It’s about heart.

Love.

The others in our class are having to act their love. Swan and I aren’t, however, and that gives us an advantage.

Yet it’s also dangerous.

If our love is discovered to be real and not faked, we’ll be permanently separated.

It’d kill me to lose him.

Yet as we are now, dancing this Love Dance, we can stare at each other lingeringly, caress each other’s bodies, and even kiss.

Then we can call it art .

And Swan’s kisses are art.

Hell, can he kiss.

Yet up until now, we’ve only kissed as part of our ballet.

I fucking want to feel what his lips taste like, when we’re kissing as lovers.

Please, let tonight be the night that his voice is freed to speak his love, as much as his body is screaming it now against mine.

Distracted by the feel of Swan’s bunching muscles against my naked legs, as he swings me across his shoulders in a lift, I falter.

Effortlessly, Swan catches me.

Then he swings me around to be cradled against his chest. “I’ll always catch you. I’ll never let you fall.”

I wrap my arms around Swan’s neck, stroking the soft hair that curls at the nape.

Our faces are close in the moonlight. His cheekbones are sharp in the silvery light.

He encourages my legs to wrap around his waist.

For a long moment, we study each other. We’re both breathing too fast.

Swan wants this as much as I do.

I know it.

Please…

Swan’s gaze is scorching. He’s never silent like this.

He rests his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

My chest aches.

Perhaps, I can free my voice first?

Swan is my best friend. It’s terrifying to tell him how much more he is to me.

It’s even more terrifying that he may reject me.

“Feathers,” my voice is raspy, “you’re everything to me, and I just…this is hard…but I need to tell you, before the chance of one of us being bonded to an Alpha on Christmas Eve or just one of us being…”

Swan raises his head and looks me directly in the eye. “I want to fucking kiss you so much right now.”

I let out a shocked breath.

Swan’s stare is challenging, vulnerable, and filled with a raw love that’s like staring into a fire that could consume me.

So, I kiss him.

It should be awkward, but we’ve kissed on stage. We know the mechanics.

This kiss is nothing like that.

Swan growls into the kiss, opening his mouth and encouraging my tongue to thrust deeper into his mouth and twine with his. When he dominates the kiss, as creative and passionate as when we dance, I melt against him.

I can feel Swan’s hard cock through the thin material of his underwear.

My pheromones and scent become stronger.

I’m sure that he can feel how wet my own underwear is becoming.

I lose myself in the kiss.

It’s everything that I’ve been imagining for years.

I bury my hand into his hair, and he tightens his hold on my waist.

I moan, never wanting the kiss to end.

Suddenly, a bitter, burned black coffee scent invades the room.

It’s so powerful that I choke, drawing back from the kiss.

It’s the scent of angry Alpha.

In fact, the worst Alpha in the academy, Dimitri, the brutal choreographer who makes Swan’s life hell.

Terrified, I whimper.

Dimitri is going to destroy us.