Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Romeo Hall, Sanctum
“ I t’s New Year’s Eve and a beautiful night, JuJu. Why don’t we stargaze in the garden?” Swan wraps me in my woolen coat, before I can protest.
Suspicious.
Why is he rushing me outside?
“Romantic,” I reply, cautiously.
“Just you by yourself.”
“Less romantic.” I try to look round at Swan, but he kisses my neck to stop me. “What are you plotting?”
Swan opens the back door, however, and gently pushes me outside into the cold night. “Have fun.”
“Hey.” I twirl around, but Swan’s already slammed the thick, oak door shut. I still shout through it. “How are you spending New Year’s?”
Swan and I have always stayed up to midnight together in the academy, trying to make as much of a party out of the evening as we could by ourselves.
The thing that I missed most was fireworks.
On the Cinders ranch, every pack member, as well as the dancers, would be invited to a party each year. It would end with a breathtaking display of fireworks like exploding stars.
One New Year’s Eve, Swan stole Dimitri’s soda stash for us. Another time, his iPod, so that we could dance to his embarrassingly large collection of songs by boy bands that were uploaded onto it.
Swan’s punishment the next day for taking the iPod was so severe that I tried to make him promise to never steal again.
I failed.
“Worth it,” was all Swan murmured through bloodied teeth.
“I’m spending it with Bec,” Swan replied through the back door. “He’s not feeling up to a party. I’ve promised to join him in his nest in the library. I have beers, popcorn, and a comedy movie set up for us to watch. I’m looking forward to quietly ringing in the New Year with him and then kissing the fuck out of him at midnight.”
I blink.
Then what am I doing out here?
Have fun?
It’s Friday night now and this last week has been both a mix of pleasure and work.
In fact, that suits both Swan and me perfectly.
I’ve labored for most of my life. I couldn’t become an elite Omega, who lays around in a nest the entire day, doing nothing but being pampered and coddled.
I need to prove myself.
I love to dance and more than anything, I need to use my skill as the principal to save my pack.
This last week, I’ve fallen into new rituals with these men, which are becoming familiar: Ambrose’s heart shaped notes on the nightstand, Vito’s freshly baked pastries for breakfast, waking Benedict up at noon with coffee and then helping him to dress because otherwise, he forgets the order of his buttons.
The small moments make me the happiest.
The way that Ambrose’s gaze softens every time that it settles on Benedict, the lively debates between Vito and Swan on everything from pancake toppings to indie bands, and how Benedict licks across every one of my bond bites in turn each evening.
Yet Olivia’s phone call has been like a cloud over us.
This calm that we’ve found and carved out together can’t last.
We’re in the eye of the storm, and the hurricane will hit us.
Ambrose knows it as much as I do. It’s why he had a barre fitted on the side of his bedroom, which is kitted out as a gym.
Swan launched himself into Ambrose’s arms, when he saw it. “You want us to practice.”
Ambrose patted Swan on the back, awkwardly. “I knew that you were dedicated. But I didn’t suspect that you’d be close to sucking my dick over the offer to train.”
“Is that a request? It’s better than an order. I always want to suck your gorgeous cock, Amby. But I’ve missed dancing. And a part of me…”
I knew what he meant.
Despite the fact that Ambrose had promised that he wasn’t going to follow the Bonding Night Tradition to stop us dancing, a part of me was waiting for the punchline, when he’d rip it away from us.
Ambrose’s gaze became frosty. “You have less than two weeks to get in your best physical shape to win. Practice, and that’s an order.”
Swan and I have been training harder this week at the barre, than if we had the Dance Master behind us with the cane.
When you’re dancing because your pack’s future depends on it, then it lights a fire in you.
Plus, everything is different now.
We’re not dancing for the academy. We’re not even truly dancing for Ambrose.
We’re dancing for ourselves.
On that stage, I want to prove that an Omega can be the best principal.
The contest will be televised.
How many Omegas will see me? How many will I inspire?
Plus, Swan’s been using the gym to increase his strength for the lifts and carries. It’s been funny to see him working in there next to Ambrose, and how the men have been trying to out jock each other to impress me.
Yesterday, Benedict and I lounged on the bed with amused expressions, while Swan and Ambrose sweated and panted in a competition to see who could do the most push-ups.
Vito doesn’t bother to compete.
My lips curled in satisfaction, when the ballet dancing Beta beat the much taller, Alpha football player.
But then, Ambrose hasn’t been whipped, if he failed to achieve his exercise goals, since he was a tiny kid.
Swan and I are survivors. We’re tough.
Of course, Ambrose earned himself the standard punishment.
Benedict and I prowled off the bed and enjoyed punishing Ambrose with kisses for the next half an hour.
Who says exercise isn’t fun?
Now, I scowl, pulling my warm coat more closely around myself against the freezing night.
Wandering down the icy path that leads behind Romeo Hall by myself, however, isn’t fun.
The air nips at my red nose. I shiver, shoving my hands into my pockets. I didn’t even get the chance to grab gloves.
Bare trees line the path. Icicles hang like frozen tears, trailing from the branches. Under the moonlight, the gravel sparkles like I’m crunching over diamonds.
I study the bright stars.
At least it’s a clear night.
This would be romantic, if I wasn’t alone.
Except, I don’t truly feel like I am. With this fated bond, I can sense my mates and carry them in my heart at all times.
Unusually, each one of them feels joyful and excited tonight.
I cherish the feeling.
The stars feel closer than normal like I could stretch out my hand and touch them.
I hold my breath, while the sensation fills me that they’re truly looking down on me, as happy as I am.
“Mom, Dad,” I whisper. “I’ve found my home. My family. You don’t need to worry anymore. Amby may be a Romeo but he’s my Alpha. And I know that this is where I belong.”
I blink the tears from my eyes but I’m smiling.
Then I hear a strange sound from around a curve in the path.
Someone is out here with me.
My brow furrows, but I hurry along the path, peering around at the stone terrace, which is lit by golden light that spills from the mansion’s windows.
Then I gasp.
Ambrose is standing behind a wide stone plinth, holding a chisel.
Behind him lie a range of power tools and a chainsaw, which run from cables out of the mansion.
He’s dressed in a long, brown cashmere coat over his suit, along with matching gloves.
On the plinth in front of him is an exquisite piece of art.
It’s an ice sculpture: A giant ice slipper, which gleams under the moonlight.
Beneath it are carved a life-like fox, which is on its haunches with its head down and its paws outstretched like it’s worshiping the slipper. The fur has been carved so realistically along the tail that it bristles.
A snake coils around the slipper, tipping its head back to stare up like it’s never going to let go.
In front of the sculpture, a frozen swan with its wings outstretched bows down… before me .
Ambrose is carving my men around me.
My heart speeds up.
I’m drawn spellbound further onto the terrace.
I watch, as intently focused, Ambrose leans over the swan and chisels a feather, before blowing away a spray of fine ice.
Finally, he looks up and notices me.
Our gazes meet in the silence.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I whisper.
Ambrose’s amber eyes are striking in the dark night. “You are, my Juliet.”
“This is meant to be our pack, right?” I stride across the terrace, studying the sculpture.
“We worship you.” Ambrose never looks away from me, placing his chisel down with his other tools. “You’re at the center of our worlds. I wanted to show you because I’m not good at saying it.”
My breath hitches.
“You just did.” But then, I take my hand out of my pocket to point at the ice sculpture. “But you’re not with us, Amby.”
Ambrose turns back to me, stalking across the terrace. “That’s because I’m here.” He reaches to trace down my cheek with his gloved finger. “I love you.”
The simplicity of his statement hits me harder than any fancy declaration would have.
His sincerity shines through the bond.
I burst out purring, pushing my hand against his palm.
“I love you too.” I smile up at Ambrose.
He’s much taller than I am. It suits him.
Then he scowls like a winter god. “You’re cold. Where are your gloves? Give me your hands.”
Confused, I raise my hands, which are reddened by the freezing air.
Ambrose tears off his own gloves and tenderly fits them over my hands, tightening them as much as he can.
They’re so much bigger than they should be that it’s comical. But they smell of my Alpha and they’re cozy.
My purr deepens.
I glance at Ambrose in surprise, before wiggling my fingers in the soft material, which is already warming my tingling fingers.
“So, this is why Swan shoved me out here to enjoy the starlight.” I grab Ambrose’s hand in my gloved one. “You schemed together to surprise me with this.”
Ambrose quirks his brow. “Scheming is a talent of the Romeos. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’ve dreamed for years of being able to spend it with you.”
“How many years?”
“What if I told you that I craved to make a bonding promise with you from the moment that I saw you?”
I glance up at the stars to avoid meeting Ambrose’s scorching gaze.
It’s too much because it’s both what I’ve fantasized to hear him say since I obsessively doodled his name across my exercise books and watched him every day in front of his locker, and because there’s no doubt that it’s true.
“Juliet,” Ambrose pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, “you’re the only woman who I’ve dated, kissed, or wanted to make mine. I never touched another because somehow, I felt like my heart had already made a promise to yours, even if we’d barely spoken. It was agony, knowing that we belonged to rival families.”
He drags me closer into his arms, then he turns me and together, we silently watch the stars in the vast sky.
Finally, I force myself to ask because I have to know, “Why did you suddenly leave, if you knew that we should be together? Couldn’t you have worked out a way to stay in America and for us to bond, when we were old enough?”
Ambrose’s shoulders become stiff. The shadows in the bond darken.
For a long moment, I don’t think that he’ll answer.
Then Ambrose says, still looking up at the stars, “It’s almost midnight. Just enjoy the evening. I have more surprises left—”
“I have to know,” I insist.
“I made a choice.” Ambrose pulls me tighter against his chest but he still doesn’t meet my eye. “I own that choice and I don’t regret it. But the consequences to me were that I immediately had to leave for England. I didn’t get to speak to anyone and I couldn’t contact them afterward.”
My throat is dry. “Why? Is it to do with your scar?”
Ambrose breaks away from me, prowling to the ice sculpture and examining it.
I can tell, however, how distracted he is.
“Oh, this scar?” He lifts his thumb to trace down from his eyebrow to his cheekbone, as if he’s forgotten that it’s there. I know that’s not true. “I was attacked by a wild wolf in Scotland, while protecting an Omega prince.”
My eyes widen. “Really?”
“Of course not. I’m teasing.”
“Jerk.”
I’m relieved to see Ambrose’s lips twitch, before he glances back at me. “The important thing is that from the moment I arrived in England, I’ve been planning how to return to America and claim both Swan and you. Benedict helped me; he’s ridiculously smart. Vito’s undercover mission gave me the last piece of the puzzle. Yet the first step was to convince Mom that I’d become the model son, gaining her trust. Benedict was with me every step of the way. We did anything that was requested of us in order to perform for Mom. In many ways, we learned to dance as skillfully as you do upon a stage.”
I rush across the terrace, skirting the sculpture to stand on tiptoes and loop my arms around Ambrose’s neck.
Vito called us manipulated dolls .
Ambrose has been played with as much as the rest of us have. But we’re going to break free together.
“You never forgot us.” I hug him.
“You never forgot me,” he rumbles.
I stroke his golden hair. “Laurent helped too, right?”
Ambrose’s expression warms in a specific way that it only does when his brother is mentioned. “Laurent has always been the best younger brother that I could have wished for. He created a code, which would trick Mom. Then he sent news to me about the academy, Swan, and you hidden in his emails. Sometimes, he even managed to mail me things sewn into innocent looking birthday gifts.”
“Like a photograph of Swan and me dancing…?” I say with a smirk.
“I’m a stalker. Live with it,” Ambrose growls.
I chuckle, but then, my brow furrows. “Laurent takes a lot of risks to help the students. It’s dangerous. You haven’t seen what’s been happening, while you’ve been away. Laurent’s proud, and he admits to his pain less than you do. I bet that he hasn’t told you, but your Mom still beats him black and blue.” Ambrose winces and then growls. “She uses him like bait for investors, taking him on her arm to events and balls in flimsy, transparent clothing. You’ve rescued me. But you also need to rescue your brother.”
Guilt sheets through the bond. It’s so bitter that I choke on it.
“I’m trying.” Ambrose’s expression shutters. “Laurent insisted that I concentrate on everyone else first. That’s what he’s like. And Mom keeps him close like he’s leashed. He’s barely out of her sight. She took him to fucking Paris with her, or I could have found a way. Still, Laurent is stronger than you think. Since we were kids, Laurent and I have been plotting together on how to save everyone in the Romeo Ballet Company.”
I draw back from him in shock. “What?”
“Laurent is sharper and braver than most Alphas I know. When we were kids, he was brought into the academy more than I was. He saw enough of what was happening there to tell me. How could we live in luxury, profiting off our own pack’s misery? We’ve spent our lives waiting for the right moment to strike and save everybody.”
My pulse is racing. Excitement rushes through me.
Ambrose is not only working to save his bonded lovers but his entire pack.
He always intended to reform the ballet academy.
“I love you, love you, love… ” I throw myself back into Ambrose’s arms, and he twirls me around with none of Swan’s skill but twice his fierceness.
Above me, fireworks suddenly explode in the night sky.
“Fireworks,” I exclaim in wonder.
“What a surprise,” Ambrose deadpans in a way that tells me that it’s no surprise to him at all. “In time for the New Year. It’s midnight.”
I’m thrumming with joy.
Fucking buzzing.
I laugh, as Ambrose lifts me into a bridal carry. He turns to face out over the snowy garden.
The fireworks shoot and whirl above our heads in a dazzling array of purples, reds, and gold. I thrill at every bang, followed by glittering lights that spray out like flowers across the sky. They light up and then fade away in miniature Novas.
I remember sitting on the back porch of the ranch, when Silvanus and I were elementary aged, drinking hot chocolate and marshmallows. We felt smug and grown up, being allowed to stay up and watch the fireworks.
“Did Vito set these up?” I ask.
Ambrose nods. “He’s out there, freezing his ass off. Swan told him fireworks were your favorite part of New Year’s Eve.”
“They are.” My voice is wet with tears. This is perfect. “Apart from the New Year’s Eve kiss.”
Ambrose’s eyes twinkle. “Happy New Year, Juliet.”
“Happy New Year, Amby.”
Ambrose leans down. His lips sensually meet mine, as the fireworks whistle and crackle above our heads.
The moment feels timeless in the dark of the night, and on the cusp of one year to the next. Heat rises in my cheeks. Our tongues entwine, passionate and electric.
I moan, hungrily asking for more.
Ambrose deepens the kiss and then…
Unexpectedly, his phone rings in his pocket.
I frown, pulling back but still feathering kisses onto Ambrose’s jaw. “Ignore it.”
“It’s midnight. It’s probably Mom or Laurent. Either way, I need to take this.” Ambrose lowers me, before steadying me back onto my feet, while keeping his arm around my waist.
I watch the fireworks die above his head.
Ambrose slips his phone out of his pocket and holds it to his ear. “Happy New Year.” Then his smile dies faster than the fireworks. “Why the fuck are you calling me, Silas?”
I suck in a shocked breath.
It’s my cousin?
Conflicted emotions surge through me. But yearning hits me the strongest. I haven’t spoken to Silvanus for years.
I miss Silvanus, as much as I can see Ambrose hates him in the way that he’s clutching his phone with whitened knuckles like he wants to crush it.
“Speaker phone, please ,” I whisper.
I need to hear Silvanus’ voice. At least that would be something.
Ambrose’s expression becomes icier, but he turns his phone onto speaker.
“Happy New Year,” Silvanus’ smooth voice is slurred. Has he been drinking? “You have a member of my pack. Is she there? Hey, Juliet? Juliet , are you…?”
“Shut up,” Ambrose snarls.
“I’m here,” I answer, hurriedly.
“Good,” Silvanus replies, more calmly. “Are you okay? I know you can’t tell me. I understand. Just say if—”
“What do you want, Silas?” Ambrose’s eyes are like chips of ice. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Silvanus’ voice sobers. “I know that you invoked the Ballet Bonding Tradition, you fucking Alphahole. We’re rivals. I gave you a hard time at school. But what kind of man takes that out on another pack’s Omega?”
“You’re mistaken about me.” Ambrose is wearing the mask that I hate. “You always were.”
“Yeah, right. Just like you took the time to get to know me , before you ripped away every record, achievement, and success that made my life worth living. And now you’ve taken my cousin.” Silvanus is breathing too fast like he’s struggling to hold himself together. “But this time, I’ve caught you. You bonded without my cousin’s Head Alpha’s permission. So, meet me tomorrow at the Sanctum Circuit, where we used to secretly meet. I’ll message you the time. If you can beat me in a race, then maybe you can keep Juliet.”