Chapter 10
My lungs were burning as the music wound down to a few gentle notes before disappearing altogether, leaving me with the rush of blood in my ears and the feeling that my life was about to completely change.
I knew—I just knew—that I had done it. That I had danced the best I ever had, that I had captured Juliet’s youthfulness, her technique, her love for life, all with my body. Though I was sure I could later pick out many flaws, right now I couldn’t.
The voice was completely quiet as if to say, “Well done. Perfect.”
I held my final pose for a heartbeat longer than necessary, chest heaving, sweat cooling along my spine as the silence stretched. Then, Madame Germaine’s cane tapped once against the floor, the sound sharp and final. I released my body, gracefully landing off my burning toes onto my feet.
The crowd clapped, though I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of their faces. Would they look proud? Disappointed? Unimpressed? I didn’t want to know.
But for some reason, my gaze drifted to the darkened theater, drawn to the slow, deliberate clap of a shadowy figure.
My entire body went cold, but not in a bad way.
No, this was with the knowledge that I was being watched—and the freezing realization that I liked it.
The silhouette was all shadow, all hunger, and yet a twisted part of me couldn’t look away.
I swallowed. Only Alek had ever left me unsettled like this, a tangle of desire and something sharper—danger, maybe—curling through me.
Maybe I was missing him too much.
I stepped back into line amongst the others, my legs still trembling, and my heart racing so fast I worried it would fall out of my chest. I’d given everything, and for the first time since I’d joined the Company, I thought I might have a chance.
Madame Germaine rose, surveying us with her hawk-like gaze. The room stilled immediately.
“Thank you, my darlings,” she said. “You’ve all danced beautifully. Now, who will play our Juliet?”
My stomach flipped violently. Please be me. Please be me.
Madame Germaine’s lips parted, and for a moment, I swore I saw the beginning of an E shape, like she was about to say either my name or Elsie’s—and though I loved my friend, a selfish part of me hoped it was me. A trickle of noise escaped Madame Germaine.
Then a voice cut through the theater.
It was low. Smooth. Dark as sin, deep as the Mariana Trench, richer than any chocolate. Part of me recognized it, but another part of me could barely hear it through the dramatic pounding of my pulse.
“Evangeline. The role of Juliet will be played by Evangeline,” the man said.
My head snapped toward the audience, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs and my throat. Was that the investor? Were they asking me to play the lead role?
Why?
We all turned to Madame Germaine, not used to anyone making decisions for her. I expected her to frown and refute them, telling us who was actually Juliet. But to my surprise, she nodded once before saying, “Yes. Evangeline Vale will dance as Juliet.”
For half a second, my world stopped.
Then it crashed back in all at once.
Mia screamed, running at me from the side of the stage before wrapping me in the tightest hug I’d ever had.
Someone else came up and hugged me from behind—Elsie, if I had to guess.
Another dancer grabbed my hands, babbling congratulations, and the rest piled on.
In an industry like ours, it was easy to feel jealousy.
But the fact that everyone was nothing but happy for me made me unbelievably warm.
My vision blurred as my chest filled with something bright and overwhelming and unreal.
Juliet.
I was Juliet.
I laughed, my hands flying to my mouth as tears stung my eyes. I felt like I was vibrating out of my skin, like I might float straight off the stage if I didn’t find something to anchor myself to.
We soaked in this moment for a little while longer before Madame Germaine promised to post the rest of the cast list by Monday’s rehearsal. She told us all to go home and rest over the weekend before pinning me with her wicked eyes.
“Congratulations, Evangeline,” she said softly. Pointedly, as if to say that the investor wasn’t the only reason I was about to be the lead. “You deserved it.”
I followed the other dancers to the exit before the voice spoke again, stopping me. “Evangeline will stay.”
The sound of my name from his mouth hit me like a physical thing—like a hand curling around my spine. The spirit of joy and celebration screeched to a halt, everyone eyeing me with either confusion or concern. The room was dead silent.
I looked helplessly at Madame Germaine. She met my gaze, expression unreadable. “You heard the investor,” she said. “Everyone else is dismissed.”
No one argued. The other dancers filed out of the door, all of them silently wondering what the man hidden in the audience could want with me. To be honest, I was wondering myself.
Mia grabbed my hand and squeezed me once more. “I’ll call you later, Eva. Okay?”
Then she, too, was ushered away.
The stage lights dimmed further before the accompanist skittered out the door. The theater was now empty.
My pulse skidded.
Slow footsteps echoed from the audience. A tall figure rose from the shadows, descending the aisle with unhurried confidence. I tried to make out who it was, but he stopped short of the stage, still half-obscured by darkness.
But suddenly the shadows shifted, and I realized I knew him.
I’d know him anywhere.
“Alek,” I breathed.
He slowly stepped onto the stage, the light seemingly dimming under the weight of his dangerous aura, fracturing against the crown of his hair. The circles under his eyes were dark, but his irises were darker as they roamed my body, the blue a sharpened hunger like a blade made of midnight.
Weeks apart hadn’t dulled him. Every inch of him radiated something predatory. Something that would eat me alive if I let him.
He was temptation give form—his black suit molded to his tall, broad body, tanned skin contoured by sin.
He wore a watch that made my eyes bulge out of my head a little, but nothing made my body react more than the way he looked at me like the leash he held himself back with was thinner than a spider’s silk, ready to snap.
The thought should have terrified me. I was alone with a man I barely knew. Everyone else was gone. The theater was far too old and outdated to have any sort of cameras or security, which meant that Alek could theoretically do whatever he wanted with me.
But instead of frightening me, my sickened soul was excited.
Maybe Mia was right. Maybe the only prince I needed was a prince of darkness.
“Congratulations, solnyshka,” he murmured, lips quirking at the corner. “You will make a beautiful Juliet.
“You—” I swallowed. “You’re the one who sent me flowers? You’re the investor?”
“Yes.”
“But…” My words sank in my throat under the weight of my many questions. “How? When?”
He stepped forward, and all I could smell was the musk of his no-doubt expensive cologne, an intoxicating smell that had me forgetting everything but him. “Because I wanted to be here.”
“Why?”
He reached forward, cupping my cheek with his large hand and stroking my parted lips with his thumb, eyes turning black at the sight. “Because I saw something I wanted. And I had to have it.”
And maybe it was naive of me. Maybe it was my experience showing. But a part of me wondered if he meant me. If Alek didn’t see the Company, but me.
Because I was starting to want him. Not in the distant, dreamy way I’d always imagined wanting someone, but in a way that settled into my bones and refused to leave.
Desperately, helplessly, without logic or permission.
I didn’t care if he was my Prince Charming or something far more dangerous.
He was here—real, solid, warm against my body—and that mattered more than any fairytale I’d ever been told.
Standing there with him, feeling his presence wrap around me like something inevitable, I realized I didn’t want to keep pretending I could go back to the way things were before we met.
I didn’t want to walk away again. I didn’t want to listen to Jules’s rules.
I didn’t want to be brave or careful or good.
I wanted more out of my life.
And the most frightening part of all was the certainty blooming in my chest: I didn’t want a life he was in for only a moment. I wanted to get to know him more, to see his rare smiles and taste his kisses and maybe, if I was lucky, do more…
So despite my lingering fear and apprehension, I looked into Alek’s dark eyes and anchored myself in the dark seas. “What did you want?”
“You. Always you, Evangeline.” He gave me a pointed look as he emphasized my full name—the one I didn’t tell him.
I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry… I technically didn’t lie to you. Most people call me Eva. But you never know when someone might be a creep!”
He cocked a brow. “And you thought I might be a creep.”
“I kind of hope you are a little.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, my cheeks already beginning to turn red. Why did I say something so crazy sounding? Did I not want him to stay?
But to my surprise, Alek didn’t run for the hills like I might have. No, he laughed, a low sound that traveled down my spine and settled in between my legs. I’d heard the most beautiful music played by the City Ballet Company’s live orchestra, but nothing could compare to the sound of Alek’s laugh.
“My, my, Evangeline. Are you saying you’re a little freak behind closed doors?”
“I… erm… I-I—”
Alek leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my lips, one that teased me into wanting more. Whatever butterflies survived my auditions were surely dead by now, having flown themselves into a tornado in my stomach.
Alek smiled against my lips.