Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Romeo Hall, Sanctum
O n aching legs, I stumble down the corridor in Romeo Hall, rechecking the locked doors.
Perhaps, this time, one of them will open.
My thighs tremble with exhaustion.
The last three days have been tough.
After Ambrose risked his life on the track (reckless, obsessed Alpha), to prove himself against Silvanus, how can I give anything but my best?
Swan and I have been driving ourselves hard to perfect a routine for the Rose vs Slipper Ballet Contest.
We courted this pack through dance, and we’ll keep it together through dance as well.
I’m only wearing my golden leotard, since I’m still overheated from exercising.
I try the next door, turning the handle sharply.
I growl, however, when it rattles but doesn’t open.
After Vito cooks a delicious lunch each day for us, and Ambrose disappears to do whatever his mysterious work is, it’s become my routine to investigate the mansion.
Yet I haven’t discovered anything sinister.
No hidden basements with captive Omegas.
No secret papers about the Institute.
And no sign of Nova.
I stand before the final door in the corridor.
This the last chance to search for the day.
Benedict will be sprawled somewhere in the library, scrawling musical notes on a page like art.
He’s been composing a new score for my dance with Swan at the contest.
It’ll be the first time that music by an Omega will be played publicly at a ballet.
I fucking love that for Benedict.
Resigned, I grab the handle, already planning how I’ll fit behind Benedict and nap with my nose nestled in his honey scented curls, while he composes.
To my delight, however, this time…at long last…it turns.
I grin, pushing open the door.
Then I edge slowly inside.
My eyes widen in wonder.
Sun streams through the floor to ceiling windows that line the grand ballroom.
The ceiling is so high that I have to lean back to see it.
I had no idea that this mansion had a ballroom.
In a trance, I wander further into the room, spinning around to see the stars that are painted across the black ceiling. A spherical chandelier hangs amongst them like the moon.
I smile, holding my arms out wide in joy. I glide as if over a shining lake over the waxed floor.
Then I notice the ballet barre, which is fixed in front of gleaming mirrors at the far end of the room.
I still in shock.
The barre looks new.
Did Ambrose put it in for Swan and me?
Suddenly, I glimpse movement from the other side of the room.
Is someone in here?
Startled, I turn to a white grand piano.
The lid and music stand are intricate and ornate like they belong in fairy land. All at once, I can imagine Benedict sitting behind it, weaving his elegant fingers over its keys, caught in the music’s spell.
I edge around the piano, peering over its lid.
Ambrose is on his knees beside a bucket.
A smudge of dust is smeared over his scarred cheek.
He’s only dressed in trousers and rolled up shirt sleeves. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, which are neatly folded beside him.
Ambrose’s hair is sweaty, and his shirt is damp. He’s clutching a waxing cloth.
He looks as startled to see me like this, as I am to see him.
“I forgot to lock the door,” Ambrose says, as if this explains everything.
I stare at him. “You’re cleaning.”
Now I can see him more clearly, it’s obvious that he’s more exhausted than I am.
Ambrose wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “Alphas are capable of it.”
I know that. I’ve just never seen it with my own eyes.
Ambrose is a billionaire.
A CEO.
Heir to ballet academies across the globe.
Why the hell is he on his knees waxing the floor of this ballroom?
I study Ambrose’s strong, tanned forearms.
He can use his strength to attack and to protect.
I’ve never known an Alpha like him.
Then a thought hits me.
I twist to look around at the huge, gleaming ballroom. “Did you seriously clean this entire ballroom by yourself? It must have taken you…”
“Weeks.” Ambrose drops the cloth, wiping his hands on his trousers. “The ballroom has been abandoned for years. It was covered in dust. It was meant to be a surprise for you. Swan and you deserve a proper space to dance.”
My heart warms.
I’m getting used to the fact that Ambrose would allow me to still dance. But that he’d support me by working this hard to offer me my own space blows me away.
He doesn’t need to tell me his love in words. This says it all.
“I’m sorry that I ruined the surprise.” I smile, feeling contented deep in my soul, when Ambrose smiles back. “This is perfect. Swan is going to freak out.”
“I look forward to seeing that.” Ambrose’s eyes glitter with amusement. “Plus, this piano is an early birthday gift for Benedict. It’s his thirtieth birthday in a couple of months, and he deserves not only his own instrument, but also a room with amazing acoustics to play it in. He’s spent the last decade terrified that turning thirty meant that he was too old to be matchable or desired, but also would be shut away in the Omega House where single Rej Omegas are sent. I’ve been trying to think of ways to wash away those fears and make his thirtieth the happiest day of his fucking life.”
“We’ll prove to Bec that he’s loved,” I say, fiercely. “And that he has a forever home and family. Being thirty is the start of his life and not the end of it.”
Ambrose surges to his feet. “I knew that you wouldn’t reject him.”
“Reject Bec?” I cross my arms. “I love my Foxy.”
“Only you would get away with calling him that.”
“It’s Vito who appears to get away with calling anyone what he likes. Honey bee? Baby ?”
“Vito can’t be tamed, which is good because it’s too much fun trying.”
“Could we arrange a party for Bec? Is there a way that he could cope with it?”
Ambrose cocks his head. “He’s never attended a party. I’ll think about it. We could hold one that’s just the five of us. I’m trying to work out how Benedict can be the pianist at the contest. It’s his music. He has a right to be the one who plays it. If he breaks that barrier, then perhaps more Omegas will be allowed into the classical music world. He’s a virtuoso. His talent should be recognized. Perhaps, I can accompany him on the violin to support him. But it’ll be his decision. I can’t make the choice for him.”
“He wants to,” I say, quietly. “Bec just needs a way to do it that suits his needs. How about the piano faces the back of the stage, so that he can’t see the audience? He could have sensory items. Talk to him. He’ll have the best idea what will work.”
Excitement rushes through me.
If Benedict manages this, then it’ll be huge for him.
It’d mean so fucking much.
Ambrose pushes his hair back from his forehead, before his gaze darkens. “Dance, my Juliet.”
My smile widens. “I am the principal of the Romeos. And since you’ve gone to so much effort…”
I back into the center of the ballroom.
I’m intently aware of Ambrose leaning against the piano, watching me with his frosty gaze.
My skin prickles.
I’ve dreamed of two things: being an Omega dancer and being seen.
Ambrose is offering me both.
I shiver, before I pirouette.
Then I lose myself in the dance.
I forget my sore muscles and exhaustion.
The sunbeams shine across my face. I throw my head back, bathing in it. Dust motes dance alongside me.
I glide across the gleaming ballroom to the music inside my head.
Except, I need a partner.
My Alpha.
I spin toward Ambrose, faster and faster.
He steps out from behind the piano, as if we’re both drawn together by a thread.
He holds out his arms, catching me.
Panting, I look up into Ambrose’s face.
The sun makes his hair and eyes gleam like molten gold.
He’s a warrior god, who has caught his mortal Omega. Except, I’m not struggling to escape.
I never want him to let go.
Ambrose is so much taller than me that I need to lift my chin and stand on tiptoes, begging for a kiss.
He claims my lips, passionately.
But then, he lifts me into his arms gently like I’m precious.
“My sun,” Ambrose murmurs. He holds me closer, sliding his hand down my leotard. “Look how you shine.”
He gently lays me down beneath the stars, moon, and the sunbeams.
In this ballroom, we’re joined in both darkness and light.
Day and night.
Ambrose cages me, pressing his strong body against me, kissing me with such tenderness that the depth of his love makes me clutch his shoulders.
Ambrose kisses down my jaw and neck, before sliding his thumb to my bond bite and caressing it.
Blinding pleasure makes me squirm.
I whimper.
“I’m going to make love to you.” Ambrose grazes his teeth across my bond bite, and I arch against him.
“Please, Amby.” It’s all I’m capable of saying.
I’m aching with desire already.
I need to feel him inside me.
Ambrose growls, lowering his hand between us. He grabs the leotard, shoving it to the side.
He plays his fingers through the wet folds of my pussy.
Then he undoes his belt one-handed, while continuing to nip and kiss down my neck, before unbuttoning his trousers and freeing his hard cock.
“Ready, good Omega?” Ambrose murmurs.
I kiss him in answer, pulling him closer by his shoulders.
Ambrose thrusts slowly into me.
This isn’t like when he rutted me, during my heat.
He truly is making love to me.
He doesn’t break eye contact, as he sinks into me, slow and deep. He’s making sure that I feel every inch.
Surely, he can’t go any deeper?
Except, he does.
He’s huge.
Ambrose kisses me, and I relax, allowing myself to enjoy the feeling of being dominated by his cock. He raises up, before pushing in again, changing the angle.
This time, he hits the spot perfectly, which sends electric sparks through me.
My eyelashes flutter. My toes curl.
Ambrose notices and repeats the motion, agonizingly slowly.
“Again.” I claw at his back. “Faster.”
Ambrose doesn’t speed up, however, he maintains his steady pace. He forces me to feel every glorious, tormenting inch of him on each thrust, while never breaking eye contact.
It’s intimate on a whole new level.
When I try to turn my head, he gently holds me by the chin.
“Let me make love to you.” Ambrose’s expression is serious. “Let me show you what you mean to me.”
I can feel it through the bond: his all-encompassing, obsessive love.
I lie still, allowing him to show me in every powerful roll of his hips.
We’re in this together.
We always were, and I simply didn’t know it.
Emotions swell up in me.
I’m caught on the edge between tears and joy.
I’m shaking.
“I’m g-going to c-come,” I pant.
“Then come.” Ambrose studies me with blown wide pupils.
And I come with a desperate moan.
He watches me like a man dying of starvation. He can only be saved by feeding on my expressions of blissed out joy.
I don’t understand the relief and guilt that slams through the bond.
Then he’s biting into the bond bite again and coming too.
I shout out, as white hot pleasure races through me.
Finally, Ambrose releases his bite, licking over the imprints from his teeth with a satisfied smile.
He looks up at me through his lashes. “I have to make sure that the bite doesn’t fade. You must be marked as mine.”
I scrunch up my nose. “Bond bites don’t fade.”
“It’s best to make sure.” Ambrose’s lips twitch, before he tucks himself back into his trousers and sprawls on his side next to me. “You were amazing. Such a good Omega.”
I glow at the praise, shrugging around onto my side to face him. “I love you too, by the way.”
And there’s that guilt again .
I must find out why Ambrose is feeling like that. Clearly, it’s tearing him up inside.
“You don’t have to work to impress me or make up for not being with me, you know.” I play with the buttons on the front of his shirt. “Vito and you have made sure that so many of my wishes have come true already. Presents, cakes, and fireworks. You even made that incredible ice sculpture. But all I truly want is you .”
Ambrose busies himself doing up his belt. “You’re not like the high maintenance elite Omegas who I know.”
I chuckle. “You should have chosen Ari, if you wanted high maintenance.”
“As in Ariana, the Beta who blackmailed that poor jerk Remington into dancing with her?
I gape at him. “She blackmailed Rem?”
“I’ve been gathering evidence about the academy for years. Laurent has helped me with secret cameras and audio recordings. Vito has done an excellent undercover job with the paperwork and computer files. I may know more than you do about what goes on. And Remington never wanted to dance with that bitch, but her clique has been bullying and threatening the elite side for years. The Dance Master has allowed it because it’s an easy way to keep order.”
Shit, is that why Remington stopped being friends with Swan?
Was he forced to betray him?
Perhaps, Remington was weak to not stand up to Ariana. But I know what it feels like to be an outcast. Not everyone has the strength to deal with that.
“We have to change things.” I grasp Ambrose’s hand.
“We’re going to. But first, we must win the contest.” Ambrose dodges my gaze.
What’s he hiding?
“I wish…” I sit up, readjusting my leotard. Then I glance up at the painted stars. “Mom would love this room. She’d dance like a true star in a place like this.”
Next to me, Ambrose stiffens.
He pushes himself to sit up as well. A steel wall slams down across his expression. He’s attempting to stop any emotion showing.
What the hell is he hiding?
I take a deep breath.
I swore that I would find out what had happened to Nova.
Ambrose could discover what’s happened to her, especially if he has methods of surveillance. It would be dangerous, but Ambrose has shown that he doesn’t fear risking his life.
Mom is pack too.
“My only true wish would be to reunite with Mom,” I whisper. “Nova vanished on the same day that I was taken by the Romeos. She’d taken me with her to a meeting at the Romeo academy. But she left me in an empty studio with Laurent, while she worked. Laurent and I were reading a bunch of trashy Omega magazines, which your mom bought him about hair, clothes, and the lives of celebrities to inspire him, and giggling over them together. Then the Dance Master burst in and dragged me away from Laurent into the dorms. I was screaming and crying for my mom. I never saw her again after that.”
“I’m sorry—"
“I don’t want apologies.” I clench my hands on my lap. “Ever since, I’ve been controlled by threats to Mom. If I didn’t behave, obey, or ran, then I was told that Mom would suffer. I’ve had to do everything that I was told.”
Ambrose’s expression crumples.
To my shock, he pushes himself to his knees. “You’ll never forgive me. I don’t ask that. But I’m here, begging on my knees that you don’t hate me. Can you try not to?”
My throat is dry. I feel frozen.
I can’t do this but I have to.
“Where’s Mom?” My voice is very small.
Devastation sheets through the bond.
“I was sworn to secrecy.” Ambrose touches his scar, as if he can’t stop himself. “I would be killed, if I told you.”
I swallow. “Who by? The same person who gave you that scar?”
“Same people ,” Ambrose grits out. “The same knife that they’d slashed me with, as blood dripped into my eye, was held to my throat. I thought that they were going to kill me.”
Ambrose’s gaze is unfocused like he’s reliving it.
I want him to stop talking. I dread what he’s going to say next.
I shuffle forward just enough to touch his knee.
I never expected Ambrose to kneel in front of me.
Why does he need to?
He’s begging for my forgiveness.
But why?
“You think that they’ll kill you, if you tell anyone what’s happened to Mom.” I force myself to say. “That’s why you never have.”
Ambrose shakes his head. “I didn’t want to distress you, until I could do something about it. Plus, I don’t care what happens to me. I haven’t since that night. But they also swore that they’d kill you .”
I hiss out a shocked breath. Terror floods through me.
“Do you still want to know?” Ambrose’s heavy gaze settles on me. “Whatever the cost?”
“I may die.” My expression hardens. “But I can’t live without knowing.”
“I was in one of my hiding places in a deserted practice room in the abandoned wing, which has a huge closet. Mom was in a rage about my grades because Silvanus had scored higher. It helped to keep out of her way for a couple of hours, until she’d calmed down. Suddenly, outside I heard your mom, Nova, and our principal Beta, Felix.”
Shivers run down my spine.
Was it the same practice room that Swan and I would sneak to dance together in after curfew?
“Felix…? Mom used to talk about him. She told me that he was the best dancer in America. She was secretly sad that she was in a rival company and couldn’t dance with him. But he’s not here now. The rumor was that he tried to run and was caught and sent into exile.”
“He was an astounding dancer.” Ambrose’s jaw clenches. “Also, a kind man who was my friend. But he’s not in exile.”
A cold ball forms in my stomach.
“Tell me.” My lips tremble. “Please, just fucking tell me, Amby.”
“They were dancing together. I pushed the closet door ajar. I meant to tell them that I was there, but something about the way they were dancing stopped me. It was mesmerizing like when Swan and you are together. I could see the love in the way that they looked at each other. When they kissed, it was obvious that this secret affair wasn’t new. A beta principal from each rival pack being together was taboo. I was terrified for them.”
“I didn’t know.” Tears tremble in my eyes. “She didn’t…”
Tell me. Trust me.
Mom had a secret life.
A secret love.
Yet I know what it feels to live like that with Swan.
“She was protecting you.” Ambrose’s breathing becomes labored like he’s struggling to stay in the present with me and not lose himself in the darkness of the past. Shadows swirl through the bond. “Are you sure…? I’ve held this inside for four years. I thought that I was protecting you.”
“You’re not.” Tears finally break from my eyes, chasing down my cheeks. “I want the fucking truth.”
“My mom and your uncle caught them.” Ambrose’s words are as sharp as a dagger. He struggles over each one. “Mom beat them. Felix threw himself over Nova to shield her. It was a scandal that would have broken both academies: two Betas from rival academies, swearing that they were a Beta only pack and would never abandon each other. Jacob stabbed Felix first. On that ranch of his, as you know, he was the type to swagger around with that big fucking knife on his belt. That’s when I ran out of the closet. I tried to save your mom. I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry that I didn’t manage…”
“ No .” I sob, collapsing against Ambrose’s chest.
He wraps his arms around me.
I’m numb.
In shock.
Ashen, I’m hyperventilating. “S-s-she isn’t…m-mom’s not…”
“I hurled myself in front of her. I couldn’t let your mom be…” Ambrose’s voice is hollow. When I glance up at him through eyes that are blurry with tears, he reaches up to rub over his scar. “But your uncle gave me this .”
I’m breathing so hard that I think I may vomit.
All those times that Dimitri and the Dance Master controlled me by threatening Mom repeat through my mind.
But all along, she’d been…?
I gag.
Guilt is thick in Ambrose’s pheromones. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t save her. Witnessing those killings fucked me up. The other college students at Oxford called me a sociopath . I just shut down to deal with… I didn’t know how to tell you. I’ve been trying to keep you safe.”
“S-s-safe?” I can hardly get my words out through my tears.
“You were with Laurent.” Ambrose holds tightly onto me like he’s frightened of losing me. “Mom and Jacob wanted to kill you as well. Lying in my own pooling blood, I made a deal. I’d leave immediately for England and prove my obedience, while Mom would keep you as a student under her control at the academy. If I fucked up, then she could still…”
I tremble, clinging onto Ambrose more tightly.
I hadn’t only been a captive all these years. I’d been under sentence of death.
Ambrose has been punishing himself for surviving, but actually, he’s my guardian angel. He risked his life to try and save Mom and his friend.
He sacrificed his future in America and his freedom to rescue me.
He’s never been my enemy.
A wave of grief hits me.
“Mom.” I sob, knowing that she’ll never be able to see me dance or know that I grew up to become a principal and find my own pack — be happy. “ Mom .”
Yet amidst the storm that’s battering me, I don’t push Ambrose away like I can sense he expects me to. I hold him close, needing his quiet strength.
He’s suffered for me.
I understand him now.
He’s my Alpha.
And neither of us will be alone with these demons any longer.
“Juliet…” He whispers, kissing the top of my head.
We sit for long moments in the silence of the ballroom.
“I want them to pay for what they’ve done.” My voice is rough and hard. “I don’t know how but I won’t rest until they do.”
“Then I’ll support you in that,” Ambrose replies. “I’ve been working on it myself for years.”
When a ringtone for a text sounds from the phone in his trouser pocket, he ignores it.
But then it sounds again.
Sighing, Ambrose pulls his phone out. When he stiffens, I glance up at him.
Ambrose’s expression is shuttered again.
“No more secrets.” My voice is thick with tears. “We don’t bury anything from now on.”
“Then I won’t hide the bad news,” Ambrose replies. “Those texts were from Laurent. He was taking a huge risk to warn us that Mom is returning to try and catch me out. She intends to do a surprise inspection to see how I’m handling things. We have almost no time to prepare. Our plans are fucked. She’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.”