AllFreeNovel
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If they’re a scent match—your true, destined, meant-to-be-mates—you’ll spend your whole lives craving to be together, craving each other in a way that demands constant closeness and kisses. Their pheromones and attention melt you into goo, and yours turn them into loyal knights dedicated to satisfying your every need.
I know better.
That dream’s a sales pitch, and I’m not buying.
I don’t need a pack telling me I’m safe. I can make me safe. I can take care of everything by myself, without handing over my entire life’s happiness to a bunch of rutting assholes.
“I’ve been asked to make sure you attend the reception after the performance. Don’t be surprised if a pack gives you an offer.”
“They can’t. I’m not—”
“Not awakened. I know. But that’s easily fixed with a hormone shot. You can’t delay the inevitable.”
My vision tunnels and my heart slams my ribcage like it’s gonna punch free. I set the costume on the makeup counter. “I’m not dancing.”
“You are,” Evgenia insists. “The Center’s director is coming to watch.”
I glance at the curtain, calculating. Will it be too obvious if I go down hard enough to snap my collarbone in the first ten seconds?
“No. No.” Evgenia waves, bringing me back to reality. “I know that look. You will not sabotage tonight for yourself or anyone else. Some of these girls are trying to make a good impression. Don’t hurt their futures just because you’re afraid of yours.”
“I wouldn’t…” But yeah. I definitely would.
Evgenia huffs. “Walkthrough in twenty. I want to see your solo one more time before curtain.”
I regret the morning’s French toast when it feels like everything’s going to come up, my whole future at risk, my fate uncertain.
I’d say fuck it all and run, but two big beta guards posted at the backstage door clock me the second I try to sneak past.
All I can do is dance.
When I join the team on stage for the walkthrough, the vibe is less hostile without Rachel and her drones. The other girls sneer, but they’re the type to be so worried about themselves they don’t have time to come after me.
My head aches through the practice. I crush a few extra painkillers, and if I happen to pass out on stage…
Yeah. That might be my best possible outcome.
Too soon, the auditorium fills. The buzz of conversation grows louder and louder, deep alpha voices rumbling and stirring up my instinct to run and hide. I plug my nose, blocking out their scents while the dance team girls giggle, leaning into the pheromones and picking out their favorites.
We’re not up until the final performance. It gives me plenty of time to pick a hiding spot, but Evgenia finds me like a ballerina bloodhound and drags me out of the bathroom just before curtain.
I take my place, vibrating with tension and dread, my head aching and ringing like someone’s chipping the inside of my skull with a pickaxe.
Then the music starts and it all fades away.
The ache and the bruises. The bitchy omegas and all the choking, heavy alpha scents. There’s only me and the beat.
I move like this is my last slice of freedom.
Because maybe it is.
I can feel the sounds in my soul, and I don’t hedge or fake or hide. I run through the moves like they’re mine. Like they came to me in a dream and only I can bring them to life.
When the music shifts, the dance team backs off, and the cursed spotlight calls me to the center of the stage.
There’s no more hiding. No other dancers to get lost in. No protection from the searing sets of eyes watching me from the darkness. Their gazes rake my skin. Alpha pheromones bleed across the stage, sticking in my throat until I can’t take a full breath.
The room spins.
