Page 2 of Dance Omega Dance

Delete the text. Forget the invitation. Lock the dream away and embrace the cold comfort of safety.

Swallowing hard, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I had fled to this city to survive, but mere survival wasn't enough anymore. I wanted to live fully and unashamedly. Even if it meant taking a risk.

As I stood there, the phone heavy in my palm, I felt something shift inside of me. An ember of defiance, buried deep, sparked to life in my chest. It spread through my veins like wildfire, burning away the cobwebs of fear and resignation.

I was done hiding, done being a slave to my nightmares. I looked at my cracked reflection in the mirror. The reflection that stared back at me was that of a survivor. Lean muscles and determined eyes. But there was a fragility there too, hairline fractures running beneath the surface. What would my parents think of me now? I was hidden away, frightened by my own shadow. This was no way to live.

Maddie's offer dangled before me, a lifeline and a fuse all in one. I longed to reach for it, to grasp at something beyond the muted isolation I'd built around myself. But the habits of secrecy, of self-preservation, were hard to break. Taking a deep breath, I typed out a response to Maddie, my fingers shaking but resolute.

I typed the words before I could stop myself:“Okay.”I wrote at last.“I'll be there.”

Hitting send, I dropped the phone, my heart racing with a mix of terror and exhilaration. There was no going back now. I had made my choice, for better or worse.

Turning back to the mirror, I glimpsed my reflection. Tousled brown hair, eyes bright with unshed tears, and my lips curved in a tentative smile. I looked... alive. Hopeful. Like a nineteen-year-old, who was ready to step out into the light.

With a deep breath, I resumed my position in the center of the room and danced. But this time, it wasn't a battle against the past. It was a celebration of the future; of the new path I'd chosen.

Each step, each spin, each leap was a promise to myself. A vow to stop running, stop hiding, and start embracing the beautiful, terrifying gift of life. As I moved, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I wasn't safe, not by a long shot. But I was free. And for now, for this moment, that was enough.

The phone buzzed again.

"You won't regret this Summer," Maddie promised. "Take the next bus and I’ll meet you at the bus terminal."

Tears spilled down my cheeks at her words, but for once, they were tears of relief, of gratitude."Thank you, Maddie,"I replied."For everything."

Maddie had been my only tether to something real since the night I ran. The first person who'd looked at me like I was still whole.

She knew why I lived the reclusive lifestyle I did. She was there in my darkest moment. The night I stumbled into Shaker Joe’s coffee shop, shaking and red-eyed, too afraid to meet anyone’s gaze. She brought me coffee and sat across from me like I wasn’t broken. That was the beginning. The first crack of light in years of darkness.

And now, she’d thrown me another lifeline. Or maybe a match to set fire to the cage I’d built.

I packed quickly, ballet shoes, leotard, sheer pink tutu. I packed lightly, the habit of being on the run too ingrained to shake. Only the essentials, nothing in excess. Easy to carry, toconceal, to leave behind at a moment's notice. The motions were familiar, almost soothing in their simplicity. Fold, tuck, zip. A ritual of preparation, of steeling myself for what lay ahead.

Standing in front of the mirror, bag slung over my shoulder, I stared at the woman looking back, and took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from my brow with a towel. Tonight would be my first ballet performance, my first since that night. The last time I performed in front of an audience, my mom and dad were sitting there at the front, with huge smiles on their faces. They wouldn’t be here tonight. Those seats would be empty, thanks to me.

Maddie had said it wasn’t my fault. But if I weren’t there that night, they wouldn’t have had to sacrifice themselves for me. The only reason I wasn’t caged up and bonded to a fucked-up pack back in my hometown of Shaylan was because they'd stepped in, stopped it, and told me to run. Then, bone-crunching noises, screams so sorrowful they burned a hole through my heart. I'd vomited when I had finally found somewhere to hide out, and then didn’t stop running for the best part of a year. But something drew me to this place. It felt like home. Like mom and dad. Like happiness, and it was the first time I’d smiled in such a long time.

With one last deep breath to steady my racing heart, I strode to the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. This was it, the moment of no return. Once I stepped over this threshold, there was no going back.

But that was the point, wasn't it? To stop hiding, stop teetering on the edge of my existence. To step into life and let the chips fall where they may. With a resolute nod, I turned the knob, the soft click of the door marking my first step back into a wider world.

The hallway that stretched before me reeked of mold and forgotten dreams. The flickering lights cast my shadow long andthin on the wall beside me, but I barely noticed. My focus was on the stairwell at the far end, the portal to the street below.

As I walked, each step became an act of defiance against the fear that crawled beneath my skin. I felt a lightness blooming in my chest. It wasn't safety, not by any stretch. But it was hope, fragile and fierce. A promise that there was more to life than mere survival. That even an omega could dare to dream, to dance, to live.

The air hit my skin like a baptism. My hair whipped around my face as I tilted my chin to the sky. The sun was setting, painting the city in bursts of red, swirling into the fiery depths of orange and yellow. Every step I took toward the bus stop made my instincts scream out, run, hide. But I was rebellious by nature. My every breath, a defiance.

I wasn’t safe.

But I wasfree.

For the first time in three years, I wasn’t running from something.

I was runningtowardit.

Chapter Two

The bus lurched to a stop, and my stomach followed a second later. I’d arrived at the Shaker City terminal. My limbs were stiff, my mouth dry, and my scent-suppressant patch had peeled at the edges. The moment the doors hissed open I hesitated.

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