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“Okay.” I didn’t want to let him go.
When the door opened I glimpsed Gabriel and Jace standing there waiting. A waft of their combined scents had me whining. A whole new wave of pain and need crashed down on me. “I need them.”
“I know you do,” Claire said. “You’re going to have them soon.”
She helped me dress, and it felt more like someone dressing a doll than having any participation. “I’m sorry, Claire.”
“You’d do the same for me in a heartbeat. When your heat is over, buy me a coffee and we’ll call it even.”
“It’s never felt like this,” I admitted. “Like everything’s warm and shiny. I think I might be a phoenix.”
She chuckled. “You’re certainly dancing like one. And I mean that as a good thing.”
The makeup for act two was pale and ghostly. I wore a long, graceful white dress which made me feel feminine and beautiful and at the same time able to dance deserving men to death.
“We’ve got five minutes,” she said. “Ready?”
I shook my head, then nodded. “Yes? I don’t know.”
“Stay here for just one second.” She slipped out the door with the spray bottle of scent canceller, another waft of my Alphas hitting me in the chest. Fire roared through me, and desire so strong ithurt.
“Get the fuck out of here,” she said. Answering growls. “Scenting you together is hurting her. You want her to make it through act two? Walk away right now.”
Incredible sadness weighed me down. I didn’t want them gone. I wanted themcloser. My rational mind agreed with Claire, but my rational mind wasn’t in charge right now.
“Okay, Giselle,” she said. “Let’s go murder some men.”
“I don’t want to murder them. I want to fuck them.”
Claire laughed. The hallway outside the dressing room was blissfully free of scent. “Fine. Murderthenfuck.”
“I can do that.”
We entered backstage just as Dion went on stage to grieve my death. And I let myself fall into it again. The dead girl who still loved the man who’d betrayed her. Some people liked to think Albrecht was an asshole, taking advantage of the weak village girl, and only performing his grief so people wouldn’t think him a monster.
My preferred interpretation of the ballet was that Albrecht was forced into a royal engagement he didn’t want, and that he never wanted to hurt Giselle.
I rose from my grave and forgave Ash’s broken character. There were real tears in his eyes. Together, we danced, and I protected him from the angry spirits of heartbroken brides.
My body was a candle in the darkness of the stage. I was the light. I was the breath and life of the forest even though Giselle was merely spirit. And when the sun rose, I looked over into the glowing light with the hope I felt.
It wasn’t merely hope for Giselle and Albrecht’s salvation. It wasmysalvation. The show was nearly complete, and I was still alive. I was still dancing. The heat hadn’t broken me.
The curtain fell.
For three heartbeats, nothing but silence filled the theater. Then the audience roared. Ash wrapped me in his arms, holding me close as we waited for curtain call. “You were incredible,” he whispered, voice raw. “I’ve never seen you dance like that.”
“Can I be done?” I asked quietly. “I need you to take me home.”
“You’re almost done, sweetheart. I promise.”
He brought me to the curtain, and every muscle memory I had kicked in. The perfect curtsey under the lights.
Out in the audience, the crowd was standing.
Tears filled my eyes. They were standing for me. Forme.
Gabriel was on stage with us, handing me the biggest bouquet of roses ever. For my principal debut and opening night. I’d never been given one before. Despite my body aching and the fire trying to erupt within my veins, I would remember this moment for the rest of my life.
