Page 46 of Dance Omega Dance

“Zach...” I whispered into his mouth, not sure if it was a plea or a warning.

He growled in response, the sound low and dangerous, before dragging his lips down my neck. His tongue flicked over the skin beneath my ear, sending shivers racing across my arms. Then he bit, not hard, just enough to make me gasp.

“Fuck, I want you,” he muttered against my throat, the heat of his breath igniting every nerve ending.

My fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants, tugging just enough to feel his cock twitch beneath. He hissed between his teeth, thrusting against me once, twice, chasing the friction. My body trembled, my thighs slick with need.

He kissed down my collarbone, lips skimming the edge of my sports bra before dipping his tongue just below it. I arched against him, desperate for more, but then, he pulled back.

I blinked, breathless, dazed.

“That’s all for today’s training session,” he said, smug and infuriating, like he hadn’t just had me seconds from falling apart in his hands.

A groan of pure frustration tore from my throat. “You asshole!” I slapped his chest. Not hard, just enough to make him laugh.

He caught my wrist, grinning as he reeled me back in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the tip of my nose.

“I love you,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “My fierce, fiery little princess.”

Chapter Twenty

Iwalked the cracked streets of Shaker City, shaking loose the past with every step. Steel and glass rose like vines around me, ivy fingers reaching into the night sky. The ground still hummed with dust and decay, but it didn't unnerve me now. I was beginning to see beauty in the broken. There was life in the fallen. A stark defiance that kept the city alive. People were still there, shadows in the dark, sweeping away rubble and dust from the earthquake. I thought of Zach, how he insisted on seeing me home, how I'd told him I needed to do it myself. I smiled into the chill night air. He was following me, even now. I didn't have to look to know.

I wasn't supposed to feel this free. After years of tight control, years of setting boundaries as high as the city towers, I'd forgotten what it felt like to let someone in. I was flying on it now, soaring from the gym. Zach had worked me harder than I thought possible, his teasing voice never letting up, his playful encouragement infectious. It had burned away something inside me, something brittle, and left nothing but strength.

The city's cool night air prickled my skin, but I pulled my coat tighter and laughed into the wind. I knew he was there, somewhere behind me, following like the alpha shadow he couldn't help but be. His presence was soft, though. He let me feel alone, feel strong. But I knew if I faltered, he'd catch me before I hit the ground. My old self would have bristled at that. My new self was thankful.

I wondered if he'd given me space because I'd demanded it, or because he understood. Did it matter? I'd spent so long pushing away, retreating, and withdrawing until the edges of my life were blurred and indistinct. It was a thrill to want to be seen, to want to be known. And as the city came alive around me, I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face. It was like Shaker City was whispering a secret, and I was finally ready to listen.

The cracked sidewalks beneath my feet told the story of what happened here. An unplanned upheaval that forced change. Dust and debris were scattered around empty lots, some buildings collapsed, some stood proud and defiant, like their determination alone held them up. People were still working late into the night. Shaker City wasn't beaten. Neither was I.

Zach had watched me, right before I left, with a glint in his eye like he already knew what I was just beginning to discover. "Call me if you need anything," he'd said, casual as ever. But I heard the undercurrent there, the unspoken message he didn't have to say out loud: I need you to be okay.

"Keep your phone on," I replied, refusing to be the only one exposed. His grin lit up his face, a flash of mischief and understanding. He knew, he always knew, that the act of letting go was harder for me than holding on.

I stopped for a moment, watching the dance of construction cranes against the night sky, the way they moved with slow purpose, lifting beams and girders as if rebuilding the city were an art form.

A whisper of cedarwood drifted through the air, faint, but unmistakable. My breath caught. Zach. That scent always found me, threading through my senses like a memory I didn’t want to forget. I used to brace against it; pretend I didn’t need the calm it gave me. Now? I let it settle deep, like warmth in my bones. My fingers brushed my lips without thinking, tracing where his kisshad lingered. A quiet laugh slipped from me, soft and full. The smile came easily... no mask, no effort. Just real. And it felt... right. Like happiness didn’t need permission anymore.

Trusting didn't have to mean surrendering. Opening up didn't have to mean losing myself. I had the chance for a life here. A life withmyalphas,mypack.

An energy thrummed beneath my feet as I passed an old art gallery, the streetlights casting long shadows that stretched and curled around me. The broken city felt like an echo of myself. Or maybe I felt like an echo of it. Either way, it felt good. It felt right.

My breath came easier now. My stride was unbroken, sure, steady, the click of my shoes loud and firm on the sidewalk. I wanted to be breathless, so I let myself run. I ran through the half-lit streets, my coat flying behind me like wings. I ran with purpose and joy and something close to hope.

There was freedom in this kind of letting go, in knowing I could catch myself or let someone else catch me. I slowed, and my breaths turned into a laugh, light, airy and maybe a little wild.

The crisp air snapped at my cheeks as I walked through the city, my footsteps echoing off buildings like a challenge to the night. The cold deepened my breath, sharpened my senses, set every nerve alight. It filled me with energy.

My feet barely skimmed the sidewalk as I flew through Shaker City, daring the shadows to catch me. Not so long ago, I was the darkness, bleeding into the edges of my own life, afraid to step into the light. Afraid of being seen, of being needed. The past clawed at me like an addiction, but the pull was weaker now.

It felt so foreign, this strength. Like trying on a new skin. I marveled at how easily it fit. I thought back to the nights I’d spent pacing alone, circling my thoughts in my tiny apartment. Sure of only one thing, my solitude. I had wrapped myself in itlike armor, called it freedom, called it survival. I'd fooled myself into thinking I was strong because I had to be.

But this was a different kind of strength. The kind that didn't come with an edge of desperation. The kind that grew from trust, from belonging, from something I never thought I wanted. My breaths came faster, not from fear but from exhilaration. I was moving toward something, instead of away from it.

The streets stretched out before me, long and inviting. They felt familiar but new, transformed by the quake and by me. Each block was a chapter of my journey, a reminder of how far I'd come. It was like seeing the city through open eyes, open arms, and an open heart.

The omega who'd fled here, scared and unsure, wouldn't have recognized the one now pounding through the night. I barely recognized her myself. But she was part of me, a chapter I couldn't ignore. One that had brought me to this exact place, this exact moment. I gave her a nod, a silent thank you, and I moved on.

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