Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
Adaptation
Ivy
Tuesday’s funders’ viewing was a huge success, and here we were on Thursday, ready to do it all over again. Preston and I had roughly thirty minutes to relax before we needed to perform, so we hung out backstage with Isaac, joking around and having fun.
“Do we want to practice anything?” I turned to Preston as he shook his arms out.
“Yeah, can we try that one lift in Isaac’s piece? My wrist is not happy with the way we’re doing it right now.” Preston gestured to me as he reached for my waist.
Preston supported me as I jumped. The lift made it about halfway up before I came back down on Preston’s chest.
“Damn it!” Preston cried out, gently setting me down before cradling his wrist.
My mind instantly flooded with concern. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My wrist,” he said as his expression twisted in pain. “Something’s wrong.”
“Preston, your wrist is starting to swell,” I gasped. I rushed to grab an ice pack out of the first aid kit nearby as I shouted over my shoulder to Isaac. “Go get Dr. Laughlin. She’s still in the building for tonight’s show.”
Within five minutes, Isaac had returned with Dr. Laughlin, who quickly worked to analyze Preston’s wrist. Dem and Lukas found us as well, as concern grew between the five of us.
“Mild sprain,” Dr. Laughlin looked up at the team. “He can still dance, but no lifts for at least two weeks. What do you need to do tonight?”
Preston and I looked at each other as Dr. Laughlin handed him some painkillers and began taping his wrist up.
“The duet should be fine from this weekend,” he said. “Those minor lifts aren’t supported by this hand. The solo is fine. Isaac’s piece has so many lifts, though. How are we going to get through that?”
“Do we just do the first duet and the two solos tonight?” Dem asked.
“Isaac’s duet is breathtaking. We can’t just skip it,” Lukas frowned. “Can you adjust the choreography?”
Isaac shook his head. “Half the piece is supported lifts. It’s too much to change.”
Dem locked his eyes with Isaac. “Isaac, can you perform your duet with Ivy?”
Isaac’s eyes grew wide at the question. He furrowed his brows as he looked at me, seeming to go through the choreography in his mind. “I’m not quite in shape to do this.”
“You’re in the dance studio every week, working out and staying fit,” Lukas countered, fidgeting nervously between his two feet.
Preston pressed a kiss to my cheek as I gently rubbed his back. “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered to me.
“This is not your fault, injuries happen,” I whispered back.
After a moment, Isaac agreed and reached for my hand. “Let’s walk through the choreography.”
We reviewed all the steps and lifts, making sure Isaac had all the grips down. Some lifts felt a bit off balance, but Isaac surprised me with how easily he adjusted and recovered. Once done reviewing, he left to change.
Anxiety gripped my mind as I watched Isaac leave. As if reading my thoughts, Dem softly rubbed my shoulder, pulling my attention.
“Ivy, are you doing okay?” he asked.
“Uh…yeah…I think so. This is what we do,” I said half-heartedly with a shrug, hiding my concerns.
This was what we did—but not usually with this much on the line.
I was equally concerned about both Preston and Isaac, not on a professional level but on a personal one.
Not only was getting replaced extremely difficult for a dancer, but so was stepping in at the last minute.
Isaac returned to the side of the stage in costume shortly, his face full of nerves.
“Guests are starting to file into the theater. We’re about two minutes from starting.” Lukas informed the group as we all took a deep breath.
“We’re all professionals here, and we have a job to do,” Dem encouraged us. “I believe in all three of you and know you can deliver. Are we ready?”
Isaac, Preston, and I all replied yes, though I still felt the nerves and doubt between us.
***
Demetrius
Preston and Ivy had proven they were not only beautiful dancers but professionals as well. The first duet went wonderfully for this second group of funders, and both solos looked fantastic again, just like Tuesday.
Here was the part where I worried. I walked out to the stage to catch the audience’s attention after Ivy’s solo.
“Before we move into our final piece this evening, I want to share a small update. Earlier this afternoon, Preston sustained a minor wrist sprain during rehearsal. He’s doing fine—and you’ll still be seeing him this weekend in our mainstage performances—but as a precaution, we’ve decided to pull him from the final duet tonight.
This particular piece involves some intricate lifts, and we want to prioritize his full recovery. ”
I briefly paused, letting my words set in as some of the funders whispered amongst each other.
“Now, lucky for us, we happen to have the choreographer himself ready to step in. Isaac Senders, as many of you know, is not only Arco’s resident choreographer—he’s also a scent-matched member of our pack and a stunning dancer in his own right.
He’ll be performing this next piece with Ivy, which he originally created for her and Preston. ”
“This duet explores the darker edges of temptation. It’s a bold, vulnerable work, and I can’t imagine a better person to interpret it live tonight than the man who breathed it into being. Please enjoy this special performance by Ivy Turin and Isaac Senders.”
Ivy and Isaac entered the stage as various funders continued to whisper.
Watching Isaac take the stage beside Ivy, I felt a twist of anxiety and nerves I hadn’t felt in years. He brought this piece to life for us—but performing it? That was a whole new kind of vulnerability for him.
***
Ivy
I squeezed Isaac’s hand backstage as Dem announced us for the final duet. So far, everything had gone smoothly, but this would be the real test to see if we could still pull off a scent-matched performance with Isaac as my partner.
We held hands as we walked out to the stage.
It felt strange stepping onstage with someone besides Preston.
I knew Isaac intimately, yet had never danced anything with him full out.
I trusted him completely, but the energy, the adrenaline, even the rhythm of everything already felt slightly different.
I took my place next to him, letting out a brief exhale as I prepared.
The first three notes of the music rang out, and when the fourth note hit, Isaac reached out to grab my neck, sending a strong shiver down my spine as I let out a small, audible gasp. Instantly, I could tell the difference.
I knew this wouldn’t be Preston’s version of the piece. Isaac didn’t ask for chemistry—he devoured it. So I let myself shift, molding to his fire instead of floating in Preston’s storm.
Whereas Preston’s interpretation felt like a powerful prince, Isaac moved like a wicked devil—enticing, commanding, and utterly seductive.
He didn’t hold back either, something that took Preston and me a week to be comfortable with.
Isaac’s desires were evident in this piece, and the way he played with dominance both excited and aroused me.
As we danced through the movement, his mouth kept brushing up against my shoulder, my chin, my ear, almost toying with me every chance he could get. Just like Preston, he found ways to connect with my skin, except he wasn’t asking for permission; he was demanding my attention.
I felt equally amazed at how smoothly he executed the lifts.
The transitions from one step to the next eloquently flowed like a musician who had complete mastery over his song.
He didn’t hesitate in his movements; he committed fully to being with me and not holding back.
And the strength of his dominance…I felt I must submit completely.
So I let myself indulge in his dominance completely.
***
Isaac
We struck the final pose, me hovering over Ivy as she collapsed to the ground, her arms wrapped around my leg.
Never had I given a more intimate, indulgent performance than what just happened here, with my scent-matched mate. The sensation of dancing with her was so wild and intoxicating, and she immediately pivoted to my way as soon as the music started.
Dancing with her was everything I’d wanted since I’d first laid eyes on Ivy, and everything I’d told myself I’d never have. My heart felt both so full right now and also breaking that I couldn’t do this again.
She was standing next to me and holding my hand, gently tugging to snap me out of my daze.
I led us forward to a small bow, suddenly realizing the wild cheers ringing out from the small group of funders.
I looked over to Dem, who was chuckling softly with an approving smile as he joined the applause.
We walked over to the side, joining Preston and Lukas as Dem closed out the viewing and invited funders to ask questions.
Ivy grabbed both mine and Preston’s hands, and a warm shiver rushed through me—her touch grounded me, even after we set the stage on fire.
Evan walked up to the five of us, looking straight at me. “I was here on Tuesday, and this duet had the same choreography, yet a completely different vibe because of the partner. That was a wild ride you took me on. Isaac, why aren’t you dancing anymore?”
“Anterior ankle impingement,” I replied, tapping my left foot. “It became too painful to flex and bend the foot, and my previous company refused to pay for the surgery.”
“Your injury can be fixed by surgery?” Evan asked, pointing to my foot.
“The doctor I saw at the time thought so,” I replied, a bit more guarded than I probably should’ve been. “It just made more sense to stop dancing back then.”
“Evan, I’m a surgical consultant,” another potential funder said, stepping forward. “Isaac, let’s set up an appointment and take over your treatment.”
I blinked, unsure whether I’d heard them correctly. After years of silence and managing pain alone, someone was finally offering to help me fix this.