Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Romeo Ballet Academy, Sanctum
“ I still can’t believe that Vito is Amby’s bonded Second Alpha.” I clasp my arms tighter around Swan’s neck.
Swan links his own arms more firmly underneath my knees in a familiar move.
I claimed that my toes hurt from afternoon dance class. We both knew that it was an excuse for Swan to carry me like he always does, whenever my feet ache.
Or to run wildly, while I put my arms out like I’m in the Titanic , and we both laugh.
Happily, I rest my cheek against the warmth of Swan’s hair. I sniff its strawberry scent. For some reason, his hair has soaked up all his sweetness.
I sneak in a quick lick.
The narrow corridor that winds from the dorms deep into the abandoned wing of the academy lies in shadows, apart from the moonlight that spears through the barred windows.
Swan’s light footfalls still manage to stir up dust.
My eyes sting.
The remainder of the day, the only thing that I’ve been able to think about has been the Alpha who roared into my world on the back of his Harley.
The Alpha with long black hair, ocean blue eyes, and a rock star swagger.
The Alpha who’s my scent match.
It’s made me distracted in class. I made too many mistakes. I can’t allow myself to lose focus on the R & J contest.
Vito isn’t my Alpha.
He’s Ambrose’s.
No one is going to get Swan and me out of here. The only way is for us to win the contest together.
My heart is a traitor, however, because it jumps with both fear and longing at the possibility that Ambrose may select Swan and me to bond after we achieve that.
I close my eyes.
I can’t allow myself to think that way.
Can’t.
Yet it’s even harder because after lunch, Swan and I discovered a Candy and Viper cupcake placed on each of our beds.
It must have been by Vito.
Students aren’t allowed to eat sugar, in snacks, chocolate, or cakes.
It’s strictly forbidden within the dance company.
But Swan and I are rebels, even if our biggest resistance to authority comes through snacking.
Plus, Swan is literally being starved, while the cakes smelled seriously tempting.
So, Swan and I hid down the side of his bed, which shielded us from anyone who’d look in through the door. Then we devoured those cakes.
And they were the most delicious things that I’ve tasted.
I felt high — floating — afterward.
Swan and I sat, holding hands and smiling at each other.
The thrill of getting away with eating those treats was like a drug.
Swan pulled me into a hungry kiss, licking the smeared frosting off the corners of my lips. His mouth tasted sweet, and I kissed back just as eagerly.
Then Swan’s eyes flashed with fire, before he pushed me onto my back, kissing down my jaw, neck, and finally down the front of my leotard.
I shivered, as he pushed at my thighs, and I let them splay open. My breathing was rapid. It felt like we’d discovered our own secret world in this space behind the bed with the taste of forbidden sugar on our tongues.
Swan licked and sucked on the outside of my leotard, mouthing at the material over my pussy, until I was wet and moaning.
I arched, grabbing his hair.
He groaned, as I tugged on it.
So, he liked that…?
Experimentally, I yanked on his hair again.
Swan growled against the cloth in his mouth, and the vibrations went straight to my core.
Intense pleasure wound though me.
“Tonight,” Swan swore, looking up at me through his butterfly thick lashes, “my tongue is going to taste the nectar between your thighs. I’ve been desperate to worship this pussy of yours. I’ll strip you naked, lie you out on our bed, and…”
“What if I lie you naked on the bed?” I challenged.
He arched his brow. “And what would you do with me?”
“Anything I want. Isn’t that what you promised?”
“Then you’d better make me .” Swan licked sensually from the front of my pussy to the back. “Grab my hair like you are now, Ash Queen, and ride my face to take your pleasure any way that you fucking want. A wild Beta is better than a tame one.”
“F-f-fuck, just, don’t stop.” I bucked harder, holding his face in place against my clit, which he sucked through the material.
Hit by wave after wave of intense pleasure, I came.
In the midst of this high stress week, Vito gave us that moment of precious happiness.
No matter what else, I won’t forget it.
Now, it’s evening.
Since Swan and I sneaked out again after curfew to practice, we’re only dressed in a thin black t-shirt with the purple rose emblem of the Romeos embroidered on it, and black boxer shorts.
“It’s not surprising that in the last four years Amby became lonely and wanted a pack.” Swan grins. “He always was dominant. And that Little Snake would look gorgeous bent over and—”
“Hey.” I bump my cheek into the back of Swan’s head. “No fantasizing about Vito.”
Of course, I’m a hypocrite. All afternoon, I’ve been imagining Vito caught between Swan and me. What would it feel like in mornings to wake up in bed with both Alpha and Beta spooning me? To have vanilla espresso and citrus strawberry scents mingling in my nest?
To have my lips stretched by Vito’s cock, while Swan pounded into the Alpha from behind? Or to be bent over the barre, while sucking Swan’s cock, at the same time as being fucked by Vito? Or Vito could be tonguing me, while Swan jerked him off?
Two partners truly does make life more fun for creative people. How much better would three be?
“Why not?” Swan demanded. “Did you see how tight Vito’s ass was in those leather trousers?”
How could I miss it?
“It’s just…” I bite my lip. “You know what Olivia is like. What the fucking Romeos are like. Did you imagine that they’d have wanted…?”
“A biker baker in their pack?” Swan laughs. “I thought Amby would be forced into a bond with some preppy knothead. Someone Traditional more like your cousin, if they weren’t mortal enemies.”
Bile rises up my throat. “Never imagine Amby and Silas together again.”
“But Silas on his knees being face fucked by Amby is my best jerking off material,” Swan says, low and sensual.
Jerk.
I nip his ear in retaliation.
Swan twirls me around in a sudden move that makes me squeal.
He laughs, and I breathlessly laugh too.
Only Swan can make me forget my worries and fears.
He hefts me further up his back and begins walking toward the practice room again. “I bet that he chose Vito because he has a big dick. I could tell in those trousers. A really. Big. Cock.”
I choke on my tongue.
Now that’s something I’m happy to imagine.
“Monster cock or not, if it was me, I’d have chosen Vito as our Alpha.” I blush. “He’s different to any other one that I’ve met. He spoke to us like we’re equals. He didn’t hurt or degrade you. He cared that you’d injured your arm and tore up his special shirt to stop it bleeding.” I glance at the plaster that I put over Swan’s cut to replace Vito’s torn t-shirt. I hope that Swan will be healed enough by Friday for us to be able to remove the plaster. Imperfections like that could make us lose. Our industry sucks like that. “He’s funny and sweet and protective and—”
“He stepped in front of the cane for me.” Swan’s thick brows furrow. “I hope that he’s okay. It was a hard whack. He took the punishment… for me .”
He sounds confused.
Lost.
It’s too large to think that there may be Alphas in America who would do that: take the pain for Betas, rather than give it.
“Amby selected a good man as his Second Alpha,” I say, quietly. Does that mean my enemy (even if he is my first love), has grown up to become a good man too? “Their Omega will be lucky.”
“Their Beta too.”
Should I tell Swan about Vito being my scent match?
I don’t keep secrets from him. We’ve shown too much of our shattered souls to each other over the years for that.
Swan’s possessive, but I trust him to understand. In fact, with the way that he’s crushing on Vito, I have a feeling that he’ll be relieved that I like him too.
“Feathers…?” I kiss Swan’s hair.
“We’re here.” When Swan carefully lowers me to the ground, I grab him by the arm to stop him entering the studio. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t know how to tell you earlier, then Miss Katerina came storming out and…” I take a deep breath. “Viper’s my scent match.”
Swan’s eyes widen, before he buries his hand in my hair and tugs me closer to capture my lips in a deep kiss.
I’m startled, before I melt into the plush press of his lips and the delicious sweep of his tongue.
When he pulls back, he’s grinning. “That’s awesome. I knew that there was something special about our Little Snake. He felt like ours. Fated. And two scent matches is….”
“Rare,” I whisper. “Really rare.”
“Since Amby is clearly back in America and he’s brought his rock god mate with him as a bonus, then we’re winning them. ”
Swan’s eyes blaze with a determined fire. I’ve seen that competitive look on his face before. He never loses when he wears it. He’s a force of nature. It’s what’s made him rise to the top of the academy, despite his low status and Dimitri’s cruelty.
Excitement floods me. “How? Amby’s mom would never allow it. And they need to select us.”
“Alphas like to think that but they don’t hold all the power.” Swan moves into a pose with his arms high above him. His dancer’s body looks lean, athletic, and fucking perfect. Who could resist him? “When we dance for them, we’re going to entrance them. We’ll say everything — our love, the years that we’ve missed Amby, how much we want to be their bonded mates — through the dance. Everyone in the audience, smugly sitting there with their wealth and influence, will think that we’re the pretty dolls and they’re the ones with the power. But they’re not. We’ll be the ones in control.”
My shoulders straighten.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel helpless.
Strength and resolve course through me.
This is our plan.
We’ll make it work. We’ll break taboos and court our Alphas.
“Let’s do this. Fuck Olivia.” My eyes gleam. Amby has my glass slipper. But I won’t wait like a damsel in distress for him to come and find me to fit it onto my foot. “One more day after this to make sure that our routine is perfect. Then we’ll have a pack to fall in love with us as well.”
Sadness worms through me at the thought that if we’re chosen in the Ballet Bonding Tradition, Friday may be the best performance of our lives.
But it may also be our last.
If we do things this way, however, that will also be our choice. I’ve had almost none of those in my life. It’s liberating to finally be able to make a decision of my own.
“Time to dance, my Queen.” Swan rests his hand on the practice room door.
But then, piano music bursts out from inside the studio.
Swan and I stare at each other.
No one comes here but us. And none of the Betas can play piano.
Adrenaline spikes through me.
“Who is it?” I whisper.
Swan shakes his head, as bewildered as I am. Normally, we play recordings on the music system to dance to, but that’s not hooked up to this side of the academy.
And this isn’t a recording.
It’s the haunting rich sound of an antique piano. It must be the mahogany piano that stands in the corner of the studio.
But no one’s played that as long as I’ve been here.
My heart beats faster. My throat is dry.
Swan pushes the door open a crack, and we both peer through at the abandoned practice room.
The room doesn’t look abandoned anymore.
I gasp.
The dust has been cleaned away from the piano and the floors, until they gleam. The smears have been washed from the mirrors, wooden floor, and glass wall. The forest behind the academy looks closer now. The red maples, ash trees, and Virginia pines are bright and sharp under the moonlight.
As sharp as the silver stars.
The room looks like it has sprung to life.
It’s beautiful like the dark and epic version of Prokofiev’s “Dance of the Nights” from Romeo and Juliet , which is gripping me by the throat.
But it’s not as darkly beautiful as the man, who is sitting at the piano playing the tune.
Swan appears to be as mesmerized as I am.
As if the music has possessed me, I push the door wider and wander into the room, needing to be closer to the pianist.
“JuJu,” Swan whispers, frantically.
Then he hisses out a sharp breath, baring his canines. He prowls into the room after me. He leans with crossed arms against the wall next to the door.
I take another step next to the pianist.
The man doesn’t even notice. He’s too hyperfocused on his music.
He’s lost in it.
I understand. I’m the same with my dancing.
Yet it’s not only the music that’s mesmerized me.
The man himself has too.
He’s transcendent.
I’ve never seen a man who looks as ethereal.
He’s older than me, possibly in his late twenties. He’s suave and masculine with gleaming, wavy brunet hair, strong jaw, and forest green eyes.
He’s wearing a velvet suit that matches his sparkling, intelligent eyes with a waistcoat that’s covered in gold threaded fox designs.
Several of the buttons on the waistcoat are undone.
An Oxford cravat is loosely tied around his neck.
When the man flings back his head as he plays, his curls also fly back. I’m spellbound by the way that he launches himself off the bench to reach for the chords with as much energy as Swan dances.
And the same talent.
Fuck, he’s breathtaking.
I forget to breathe.
I’ve never watched anyone play like this.
The man’s a virtuoso.
And he’s also a male Omega.
But in this industry, there are no male pianists at his level in America. The classical music world is even more traditional than the ballet one.
Who the hell is this beautiful male Omega?
Is he the only Omega pianist in the same way that I’m the only Omega ballet dancer?
I’m flooded by admiration and a desperation to get to know him. I’ve never met another Omega who is struggling like I am to prove themselves in the creative industries.
There’s an Omega movie star and director, Jex Champion, and I’ve heard rumors of an Omega band, with the singers Ember and Roman.
But the worlds of classical music and dance are different.
This pianist is inspirational.
But why is he here in our academy?
The male Omega’s long, elegant fingers flutter over the keys. His cuff links are musical notes.
My heart skips a beat with shock, however, when I notice the ugly steel bracelet that jangles around his slim wrist.
He’s a Reject!
How can he be? He looks like the model of an elite Omega.
When I’ve imagined having a male Omega to love as my own, cuddle in an Omega pile, or hold in my nest in the cold nights, this man is exactly the fantasy I’ve dreamed about.
Is he a Non-heat like me? Marked as rebellious? Or perhaps, an orphan who was taken in as someone’s ward and Companion Omega?
Shit, I hope it’s not that.
Companions are treated as lower status than simply Rejs.
Foreboding begins to trickle through the sudden joy of discovering such a talented, beautiful Omega.
What’s the mystery of his sudden appearance?
Why is he playing alone at night in this forbidden part of our academy?