Page 22 of Dance Omega Dance

But my skin prickled the second I stepped through the doorway.

The scent hit me first. Not bad. No. Justnew.Faint traces of their world: masculine warmth, cedar, leather. Nothing mine. Nothing familiar.

This wasn’t home, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, listening to the softclickas the latch caught. Then I let go. My shoulders sagged. My hands shook. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been holding myself together.

The bathroom caught my eye with its clean white tile, glass shower, silver fixtures gleaming under soft light.

Sanctuary.

My feet moved before I told them to. Like I could outrun the day by stepping beneath hot water. Like maybe if I peeled off these filthy clothes, I could scrub away the way his voice still echoed in my head. The blood, the shaking, and the image of myself on the screen.

The bathroom was twice the size of the cramped rooms I was used to navigating. But I barely spared a glance for the marble countertops or the plush towels stacked neatly on their warming rack. All of my focus tunneled to the large glass shower. I turned it on, and within seconds, it began steaming with a preset temperature.

I stripped, folding Anders' coat and laying it aside, followed by my serrated bloody tutu. When I was naked, I stepped under the hot spray, letting it beat down on my head and shoulders like a cleansing rain.

Lathering up with the lavender-scented body wash, I focused on scrubbing every inch of skin except my leg. Carefully washing around the stitches, watching the dried blood flow freely down the drain.

The water cascaded over me, carrying away soapy residue, but doing little to ease the knots of tension that had taken up permanent residence in my muscles. The only way they would ease would be through dance, and I couldn’t see myself doing that anytime soon.

I closed my eyes and tipped my face up into the spray, willing my breathing to even out. This was just a temporary situation, Iassured myself. A necessary evil to endure until I could get back on my feet. The alphas might believe they were doing me a favor, but I refused to be lulled into a false sense of security.

I'd grown up hearing the stories, watching the headlines. Omegas who trusted too easily, who let themselves be swept away by the first hint of alpha charm and possession. They always ended up losing themselves, their ambitions devoured by the endless demands of the Pack and their children. That was a fate I had sworn to avoid at all costs.

Even if a traitorous part of my brain yearned to belong to alphas as powerful and charismatic as Blake, Anders, and Zach. Even if my treacherous omega instincts whispered seductive promises of safety and surrender in their presence. I shook my head, dispelling the water droplets and the dangerous train of thought.

Reluctantly, I shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping myself in one of the fluffy ivory towels. I couldn't linger here forever, no matter how tempting it was to barricade myself in this room and let the world fade away.

Padding back out to the bedroom with the towel clutched around me, I found that someone, likely Anders, based on his earlier words, had laid out a set of pyjamas on the bed. Soft cotton pants and a plain gray t-shirt. They smelled of Zach, as cedarwood tingled my nose while I dressed.

A tentative knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts. I tensed, still clutching the towel, before forcing myself to breathe evenly. "Come in," I called, my voice sounding thin and thready.

Anders stepped inside, his eyes sweeping over me, before crinkling into a small smile. "You look a bit more relaxed," he offered. "I thought you might be hungry?"

He gestured for me to follow him, and I did, trailing a few steps behind as he led me out to a small dining nook off the main living area. The table had already been laid out with a coupleof steaming dishes. A hearty, savory scent wafted up, making my stomach clench with a reminder that I hadn't eaten since yesterday.

"Just a little stew and bread," he said, pulling out a chair for me. I smothered a flash of irritation at the courtly maneuver, reminding myself he was just trying to be helpful.

The food tasted as good as it smelled, the rich flavors coating my tongue and warming my insides. Anders sat across from me, not eating, simply watching me with that thoughtful amber gaze.

After several minutes, I set my spoon down, pushing the bowl away. Exhaustion was crashing over me in waves, my body feeling leaden and slow as the stress of the last twenty-four hours sank in.

"I think I need to lie down," I managed, barely suppressing a yawn. Anders nodded, unsurprised.

"Of course. We can save the rest for later." He stood and rounded the table, offering me a hand up. I pretended not to notice, levering myself to my feet and ignoring the faint furrow that formed between his brows.

I mumbled a vague approximation of thanks as I shuffled back to the bedroom, feeling the weight of his concerned stare between my shoulder blades. It took the last dregs of my energy to close the door behind me, shutting out the rest of the world.

I collapsed onto the king-sized bed, ignoring the silky charcoal comforter and mountain of throw pillows. They could have laid me down on a bed of nails, and I doubt I would have noticed at this point. Every muscle ached with a bone-deep weariness, and my eyelids felt like they were weighted with lead.

I curled onto my side, hugging a pillow to my chest as I finally let my eyes drift shut. My last hazy thoughts before sleep dragged me under were of the three alphas who had disrupted my life in the space of a single day. Even in the sanctuary of sleep, it seemed I couldn't escape them entirely.

The realization probably should have unsettled me more than it did. But I was already slipping away, my consciousness drifting into dreams tinged with hints of forest pines, fresh cedarwood, and mountain rivers. Scent memories of safety and unlooked-for comfort, wrapping around me like a blanket as I tumbled headlong into the darkness.

Chapter Ten

Iwoke with the heaviness of deep sleep clinging to me like a weighted blanket. For a disorienting moment, I couldn't place where I was. The sheets were too soft, the mattress too yielding. The scent was all wrong, lacking the familiar sweetness of cotton candy that clung to my cramped studio apartment. Then, in a dizzying rush, the events of the previous day came flooding back. The theatre. The Earth breaking in two. Being trapped and struggling to breathe. Then the three alphas that enveloped me, needed me perhaps as much as I needed them. I was in their home. Could it ever be my home?

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