Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Prima Ballet Theater, Sanctum
E xcitement and nerves churn in my stomach. I clutch my middle. Am I about to hurl?
I’m trembling with stage fright.
It’s finally Friday night — Christmas Eve.
It’s the evening of the R & J Choosing of the Principals contest.
I’m standing backstage in the legendary Prima Ballet Theater. I can hardly believe that I’m finally back here.
This is the renowned theater, which the two packs in Sanctum, the Romeos and the Cinders, battle each other to hold control over.
This is where Nova danced.
I spent my childhood playing in the stalls and here, backstage. I watched as spectacular dancers blazed across the stage, hoping that one day, I could do the same.
Tonight, I will.
The theater is luxurious.
The boards gleam. The purple velvet curtains are closed. The stage is bare (so that the audience can better concentrate on the performances), apart from a backlit background of glowing stars.
I clench my hands, caught in the twinkling of the fake stars against the black backdrop.
Are my parents looking down at me from the stars right now? Are they proud of me?
Would my mom, Nova, be just as proud to see me dancing in the theater where she shone so brightly?
Has Olivia told Mom about tonight, wherever she’s keeping her?
Does Mom know what’s been happening in my life or is she being kept in the dark like I am about her?
I wish that she was in the audience.
I close my eyes tightly, allowing myself to make a single Christmas wish that I know won’t come true: that Mom would be out in the audience and could know that her little Omega daughter has finally grown up and is now a dancer like her.
That I had a shot at becoming the first ever Omega prima ballerina.
I sigh, opening my eyes again.
The orchestra are discordantly tuning up. I love the sound though. I always have. It means that the performance is about to begin.
I scrunch up my nose at the unique smell of the theater, which throws me more firmly back to my childhood than anything else: dust burning in the footlights, the musty scent of velvet seats, and greasepaint.
I take deep breaths.
I refuse to vomit all down my gorgeous costume. I’ve spent too long sewing it to ruin everything now.
Most of the other dancers are dressed in gold as normal or have slight modifications like the tiara that Ariana is wearing.
As this is a contest, we were allowed to adapt our costumes.
I wanted to make sure that I’d stand out, as well as Swan.
So, I made us white, flowing outfits that would emphasize our fluid style, but which were embroidered lovingly by me with the Romeo’s emblem of purple roses.
The thorns, however, just like the statue in the courtyard, wind around our bodies to our throats like they’re trying to strangle us.
It represents the sense of foreboding and danger, while our love blossoms.
Pale, I hurriedly turn my head to Swan’s neck and take deep breaths of his scent.
“Okay, JuJu?” Swan plays with a strand of my hair. “If you’re going to throw up, could you at least turn your head Rem’s way and not do it down my front? I look too handsome tonight.”
I huff a laugh.
He does.
Also, Remington’s kneeling at our side, adjusting his shoe and looking as much of a dark haired doll as Ariana, who’s snootily standing next to him.
I’d cover Remington satisfyingly.
Revenge served cold at last.
“We’ve got this.” Swan rests his chin on my head. “Our last rehearsal with Bec yesterday was fucking fire. That Omega could inspire anyone to give the performance of their lives.”
“It’s like he’s playing your soul,” I murmur. “When I hear his music, I want to laugh, cry, fucking dance and never stop.”
“He should be famous,” Swan snarls.
If he wasn’t an Omega goes unsaid.
“He’s working,” I point out. “He’s earning his own money.”
“He’s bonded to a billionaire.”
“He’s in love with one,” I reply because Benedict doesn’t appear merely infatuated with Ambrose, he worships him. The best man in the entire world…? What type of Alpha is Ambrose to have earned that level of respect from Benedict? “But being independent is the most important thing. Otherwise, you lose a sense of who you are. It’s what they do to us in this company.”
Swan frowns. “Following your passion is what’s important. I’ve never lost myself, no matter what the instructors have done to me. I won’t become less of a troublemaker, if I match to an Alpha. I’ll still be me . But is it wrong to finally need that? To be wanted and not rejected? We won’t lose our independence just because we’re finally loved. This is our plan, remember? Our choice.”
I look up at Swan, stroking his sharp cheekbone. He looks gorgeous in his costume. The white tights define every muscle of his lean legs, and his tunic is slashed low to reveal his collarbone below winding thorns.
“It is our choice. It’s not wrong to want to be bonded. We’re winning this. Winning it all.”
I don’t dare say more because Remington and Ariana are standing too close to us, pretending not to be eavesdropping.
I want to tell Swan that he’s already loved by me.
Benedict has made it clear that he’s selected us both as soul mates.
My fear is just how much rests on this single performance: becoming principals, saving Swan from bonding with Dimitri, rescuing ourselves from this academy, and being free to discover what’s happened to Mom.
Of course, tonight we’re dancing to win the heart of Ambrose because then, we’ll also become part of the Romeos.
We’ll become bonded to Vito and Benedict as well.
When Mary waves at me from behind Ariana, it’s a relief to see her cheery grin.
I wave back.
Mary is paired with her best friend, Thiago, who’s chatting casually with her.
He’s a good guy who sometimes joins in with Swan’s mayhem.
Mary and Thiago both know that they have no chance of winning tonight. But they’re going to have fun.
The other pairs of dancers are milling around, waiting for the signal that’ll start the performance. They look almost as nervous as I am.
This is their big opportunity as well.
“Five minutes,” Katerina calls, looking harried. She’s rushing between the pairs of dancers, who are lining up now in order of their performances. “I expect you to be perfect. Don’t disappointment me. Remember, I’ll put you in neck braces, if you don’t look up during your turns. Poise and balance. Ambrose Romeo, our new CEO and artistic director, is in that audience ready to judge who the new principals will be this season. It’s up to you whether you impress him or fail. This is your chance. Seize it, ladies and gentlemen.”
“We’re first.” Swan takes my hand and pulls me to the edge of the stage. His eyes flame with determination. “The fight begins.”
“To become principals.”
Swan grins at me. “For our new pack.”
I grin back. “To show everybody why we deserve this.”
Unexpectedly, Dimitri pushes through the dancers toward Swan and me. He towers over everybody in the tight space.
Frightened, the dancers part for him.
I stiffen, and Swan pushes me closer to the stage, in order to block Dimitri from reaching me.
Dimitri’s military neat ice white hair and beard are gelled down more than normal. His pale blue eyes blaze. He’s wearing an immaculate ivory suit.
“Here to wish me luck?” Swan asks, cockily.
Dimitri yanks Swan closer by the front of his costume, pretending that he’s only inspecting it. He uses the opportunity, however, to pat Swan down more roughly than needed.
Swan grimaces.
I ball my hands into fists.
Stop fucking touching him.
Then Dimitri raises his hand to threateningly rest it at Swan’s throat. He doesn’t tighten it. He doesn’t need to.
He’s making a point.
“I’m here to remind you of our deal.” Then Dimitri leans in and whispers, “Mom invited Mr. Romeo and his new pack to dinner last night. They’re not my type — trash who need to be sent to the Alpha Center to be trained and a dumb Rej who can’t talk properly — but they appear to be his . He spent the evening pampering and indulging them.”
“Wow,” Swan shakes his head, “what a bastard .”
I desperately pretend my laugh is a cough.
Behind me, I hear Mary laugh without trying to hide it.
Dimitri’s expression darkens to a thundercloud. “He doesn’t know that a true Alpha needs to show strength and put his mates in their place. I learned that growing up.”
Dimitri tightens his hand threateningly around Swan’s throat.
I grit my teeth.
Swan’s arm has only just healed in time for this performance. If we have to go out there with his throat encircled with bruises, then we’ll have lost before we’ve danced a single step.
“Please,” I whisper, “we have a deal. Swan isn’t your Beta yet.”
He’s mine.
For a long moment, Dimitri only flexes his fingers. Then finally he lets go, patting the front of Swan’s uniform like he was merely helping him tidy it all along.
Swan resolutely doesn’t raise his own hands to rub at his neck.
Instead, he stares at Dimitri challengingly in a way that no Beta should.
It’s Dimitri who drops his gaze. “I’m trying to help you. I’m aware that a ridiculous rumor has run riot through the company that this Christmas Eve will also be a Ballet Bonding Night. But it’s false. I’ve met Mr. Romeo’s mates and he already has his hands full. He’s clearly in love. Why would he choose to select an enemy Omega and a low status Beta?”
Swan and I both wince.
There’s no answer to that.
“So, good luck.” Dimitri patronizingly pats Swan on the shoulder. “Elites from across Virginia are out in the audience, including the Governor, Senator Knight, Mayor St. Clair, and Sheriff Dante. Some of the wealthiest packs are sponsoring us this season: the Kings, Blades, and Champions. I hope that doesn’t make you nervous? And don’t think that I’ve forgotten our deal. When you lose, you’ll spend a lot of time on your knees making up for the way that you’ve challenged me tonight.”
Swan growls.
I watch as Dimitri stalks backstage.
Adrenaline is racing through me. I’m bouncing on my toes.
“He’s trying to rattle us. He wants to mindfuck us just before we have to perform to ensure that we make mistakes.” I squeeze Swan’s hand. “He’s using every dirty trick that he can to—”
“Light a fire in me…?” Swan’s face is lit up like the sun. He looks more beautiful than he ever has…and more determined. “He couldn’t have given a better motivational speech if he’d tried. I’m pumped. Now, let’s go out there and dance to win the hearts of the Alpha who loves and pampers his mates.”
Hope surges through me.
We can do this.
We have to.
All of a sudden, the orchestra strikes up with sweeping music. The velvet curtains pull back.
I hear muttered voices from the audience, the elites of society, followed by a sudden hush. The lights are too bright for me to see anyone.
The moment that Swan and I step out on the stage, however, taking up our poses, I know that they can see us.
Are Ambrose and his lovers in the front row?
I try to imagine them there, watching.
I’ll dance for them and for Swan.
This Love Dance is for all these men who I want to be a part of my life.
Now, Swan and I are no longer ourselves, we’re also Romeo and Juliet.
Yet our love is real, and that’s what sets us apart from every other dancer here.
It’s what’s made us suffer.
But just as love can make you suffer, it’s also going to be why we win.
As two lovers, Romeo and Juliet, we fix eyes on each other. We’re no longer on a stage, we’re meeting together alone for the first time, as young lovers.
Transfixed, I watch Romeo’s solo leaps like he’s courting me with his energy and passion. Shyly, I swirl around him, but then more confidently, as we’re caught up in our blooming love.
We dance faster, while the music swells, through pirouette turns and high and low embraces that are as fluid as melted ice.
My Romeo drops to his knees, caressing my calf in adoration. Then he opens his arms in the same pose as the courtyard statue, and I rush to him.
He catches me — like I know that he always will — gracefully holding me up.
I fall up and then down like I’m flying with one leg extended, before he pulls me close.
My heart swells with love at the same time as the music does.
Fuck, I love this man.
I never want to stop dancing with him. He understands my body in a way that no one else could.
When he twists to stand, raising me in one fluid move, until I’m lying across his strong back, before twirling me around to be cradled in his arms, I’m breathless with desire for this to never end.
Under the false stars, there’s nothing false about our love.
When the dance finishes with my Romeo pulling me into a kiss, it’s as passionate as our first kiss.
I wind my arms around Swan’s neck. Then I relax into his arms, purring and allowing my pheromones to flood the theater. I know the impact that this will have on all the Alphas.
I’m an Omega. I have to use every advantage that I have.
I’m not above using my own dirty tricks.
“You were mesmerizing, my Queen,” Swan murmurs. “If Ambrose doesn’t claim us after that, then he has no heart. It’ll be his fucking loss.”
The audience erupts into wild applause.
Shit, they liked it.
It went well.
Really well.
Please, let it have been enough.
I squint into the bright lights, as Swan and I finally break away from each other and hold hands. Then we sweep into an elegant bow.
Swan shoots me a secret smile, before we exit the stage on the opposite side.
Then he hugs me, and I struggle not to fall apart.
All we have to do now is wait and see how the other dancers do.
I can’t bear the tension.
Swan strokes over my back, pulling me to nuzzle against his neck. “You don’t need to watch. We did our best. We were gods out there.”
“Modest.”
“God-like.”
“So humble.”
“The new primo.”
I nip Swan’s neck, and he bares his teeth in his typical snarling grin. “Don’t jinx it.”
I peer over Swan’s shoulder at Ariana and Remington, who are dancing now. They’re technically brilliant but cold, just how Katerina teaches us to be.
Remington doesn’t appear to even enjoy touching Ariana.
“Can’t you just feel the love?” Swan hooks his arm around my waist, dragging me against him.
I don’t know if he’s joking about Ariana and Remington’s performance or his hard cock, which I can feel through his tights against my thigh.
My nerves ratchet up as each of the eligible pairs from my class dance, ten in total.
They’re all different and excellent in their own ways.
Yet there’s no doubt that Swan is the best dancer.
But will I wreck his chances? Will being paired with an Omega be the reason that he’s not chosen?
Or will Ambrose remember his love for me? His friendship with Swan?
Will Benedict being our soul mate, as well as Vito being my scent match, make Ambrose choose us?
He has to know that we’re fated to be part of his pack.
Right?
Mary and her partner, Thiago, are the last to dance. They’re also the weakest.
I wince, when Thiago misses a leap, twisting his ankle. Valiantly, he keeps going.
Dimitri is going to make him pay for his error.
I wince again at the thought.
At last, they painfully finish, and Mary helps Thiago to limp off stage. I dart Mary a sympathetic glance.
She shrugs, pointing at me with a thumbs up.
I smile, mouthing thanks .
I clutch Swan’s hand. “This is it.”
“I’m here with you, no matter what.” He tightens his hold on my hand.
In the silence, Swan and I lead the other dancers back onto the stage like we’ve practiced back at the academy.
We line up next to each other.
Now it’s time for the official choosing.
My heart is beating like a hummingbird in my chest. My legs feel like they’re going to buckle.
With an effort, I lock them. I force myself to stand still, only looking ahead into the bright lights.
But then, I hear a noise to the side of the stage. The other Betas break into excited whispers.
Without meaning to, I turn to look.
Ambrose Romeo is standing at the side of the stage.
Our CEO.
Son of the billionaire owner of the Romeo Ballet Company.
And my first love, who vanished four years ago at the same time that I was taken captive by this enemy pack.
I stare at him in shock.
Ambrose was hot in high school as the golden boy jock. But now, he’s all man.
Under the twinkling lights of the stars, as he stands with his hands behind his back, coldly studying his dancers, he looks every inch the powerful CEO.
He commands the stage and he’s doing nothing but standing on it.
Ambrose is dressed in a designer, chestnut brown suit with gold buttons, a white shirt, and rose embroidered waistcoat and tie.
He’s taller and more broad shouldered than I remember. His golden hair tumbles over his tanned face, and his unusual amber eyes are spellbinding.
He’s giving that dominant look, which makes Omegas swoon.
But the reason that my heart skips a beat is the scar.
It bisects Ambrose’s left eyebrow, narrowly missing his beautiful eye, before running down the edge of his cheekbone.
That wasn’t there, when I last saw him.
What the hell happened to Ambrose? How was he hurt?
My heart sinks.
There’s so much that’s a mystery about Ambrose. Anything could have been going on to keep him away for the last four years.
Perhaps, no matter how many times I’ve wrapped myself in the scent of the Alpha’s football jersey or reread his love notes, I don’t know him at all.
Swan tightens his hold on my hand, as Ambrose stalks up and down the line more like he’s inspecting his warriors before a battle than dancers.
“All the performances were flawless. As CEO of the Romeo Ballet Company, I am proud of you.” Ambrose’s voice is deep and rumbling.
It makes me want to purr. It’s hard to hold myself back.
Flawless?
Next to me, I notice Thiago’s shoulders slump in relief.
“I’ve arranged a feast with cakes baked by my Second Alpha at the academy as a reward.” Ambrose continues to pace up and down. I bite my lip. Please, look at me . But he doesn’t turn his head. “I know that this is a change to how things are done. But since my mom isn’t here, we’ll run things my way for now.” Ambrose’s smile is slyly dangerous. “Tomorrow, for Christmas, there will be a special lunch, decorations delivered, and presents for each student.”
The dancers burst into excited chatter. Mary whoops.
I bet Katerina and Dimitri are going crazy in the wings. But there’s nothing that they can do, if it’s the CEO’s orders.
It’s the perfect fuck you .
So, Ambrose is as good a man as I’d hoped he’d be.
“Awesome,” Swan mutters. “Amby is Santa too.”
“Now, for the choosing of the principals,” Ambrose declares.
Instantly, the dancers fall silent.
Shit, this is it.
I try desperately to catch Ambrose’s gaze.
He’s still not looking at me.
Why won’t he look at me?
I rock on my heels, flooded with nerves.
Next to me, Swan’s gaze is fixed on Ambrose like he’s frightened that if he looks away, then he’ll be abandoned again.
Ambrose reaches into his jacket and removes two long stemmed, purple roses. “I, Ambrose Romeo, on behalf of my pack, will not only be selecting the principals but also invoking the ancient tradition of Ballet Bonding Night.”
He says it like it’s a declaration of war.
Swan draws in his breath.
Ambrose is truly doing it.
This is going to be a Ballet Bonding Night…
I chew my lip, fixated on the way that Ambrose is pushing his thumb into one of the thorns on the roses hard enough to make blood well up, before trickling down and staining his white cuff.
Please, please, please.
Then Ambrose raises his fierce amber gaze to mine.
The intensity of his love in that look blows me away.
Yet also the intensity of his burning hate.
Ambrose prowls toward Swan and me, holding out a rose to each of us at the same time. “I claim this Romeo and Juliet as my bonded mates.”
In a daze, I clasp the bloodied rose, holding it to my heart, at the same time as Swan does.
Have we won?
Is this real?
Can we truly have been selected to bond with Ambrose?