Page 47 of Dance Omega Dance

I was part of something now, part of the city, part of the pack, and it didn't mean what I'd feared it meant. It didn't mean losing who I was. It meant finding out who I could be. That realization made me giddy, breathless, and made me want to shout at the top of my lungs.

The pack, that elusive dream I never dared let myself dream, was real. It was mine. It had to come first now, even above the independence I'd fought so hard for. I learned that didn't mean giving anything up. It meant gaining everything. I was learning what trust really felt like and how powerful it could be.

And as Shaker City grew around me, finding life again, I did too.

THE PENTHOUSE WAS QUIETwhen I slipped in, the kind of quiet that felt charged, waiting to break. The soft glow of streetlights spilled through the windows, casting patterns on the floor that rippled like water. Blake was there, alone, in the vastness of the living room. His alpha presence filled the space so completely, I wondered how there could be room for anything else. I watched him, holding my breath, and he watched me back, intense and unwavering. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and I knew he could sense it, the change in me, the confidence, the shift from uncertainty to resolve. I felt it in the way his eyes darkened, in the way his body leaned toward mine, magnetic and drawn.

He took me in with a glance that left no part of me unexamined, and yet there was no pressure there, no force. Just the undeniable pull of someone who knew exactly what he wanted. He didn't have to say a word; I felt it, an electric current between us, sparking and catching fire.

"Summer," he said, my name low and deep, the timbre vibrating through the space between us. It wasn't a question, but a statement, a claim as much as an acknowledgement.

I moved toward him, a single step that felt monumental. I felt the change in my body language before I saw it reflected in his eyes. No defenses this time, no careful barriers. Just me, open, unguarded, trusting him with the truth of who I was.

His desire was palpable, a force as real as gravity. It pulled me closer, but Blake stayed still, his restraint as intense as thelonging behind it. He would let me close the distance. He would let me decide. That was how much he knew me.

The city skyline shimmered behind him, lights twinkling against the night like a promise. I felt the strength of them, the stability, a mirrored reflection of what I felt with him.

"You feel different," Blake said, and I almost laughed. He was so observant, so attuned, that of course he would notice. He noticed everything.

"Does it scare you?" I asked, but I knew the answer. The old me would have been the scared one. Not this time.

He shook his head, his gaze steady and strong. "Not even a little."

He moved then, slow and deliberate, every step measured, controlled, the motion of someone who could command a room, a city, the entire world, but chose instead to let me lead. It made my heart twist in my chest. It made me love him, this alpha who'd let me be my own leader.

As he approached, the smell of the hospital clung faintly to him, a reminder of who he was and why he was. I found I liked it. The certainty, the dependability, the way it lingered like the echoes of his careful words. I breathed it in, mingling it with the fresh rain and concrete of the city that followed me home.

The room shrank around us, the spacious penthouse folding into an intimate cocoon of soft lighting and open air. I could still feel the night on my skin, cold, and crisp. It mingled with the warmth of Blake's presence, contrasting, complementing, perfect.

He closed the last inch of distance, his hand lifting to brush my hair back, a touch so gentle it barely registered, but was felt through my whole being.

Our breaths mingled in the small space between us, and the tension was like a live wire, a heart beating with the potentialof everything we hadn't said. Everything I was ready to say. Everything I finally believed.

I looked up at him, and met his gaze head-on. No retreat this time, just honesty. "I'm here," I said, the words weighted with more than their simplicity. “I'm here,” I said. “I'm yours, and I'm all of yours.”

His hand traced down my arm. The lightest touch, yet it set every nerve on fire. I leaned into it, into him, my restraint dropping away, my own wants finally clear.

The entire world narrowed to this moment, to this place; the rest of it faded and forgotten. I felt his heartbeat as he drew me in. A strong, steady thrum that matched my own. His other hand found my waist, and I melted against him, a sigh escaping my lips, a sound I'd never let myself make before, a sound of surrender, of need, of absolute certainty.

Blake held me like I was precious and wild, like I could break or break free, like he loved that I could be either.

I let my hands rest on Blake's chest. His shirt was soft beneath my fingertips. I gathered it in my fists, pulling him closer, pulling myself closer to something I'd never dared to want. My breath caught as our lips met, the spark turning to a flame, the gentle beginning turning wild and wanting and mine.

Our lips met again, harder, more desperate, as if we'd been waiting for this moment all our lives. His self-control, his unwavering patience, pushed me, fueled me, and I pulled him even closer, like if I held tight enough, I'd never have to let go.

My fingers traced the line of his jaw, the tension beneath his skin, a live wire of intensity that matched my own. I couldn't believe this was real, that I could have this, have him, have them all.

"I want you," I whispered against his mouth, the words a release, a surrender, a promise.

He moved then, with a swiftness and certainty that made me gasp. He held me against the wall, his hand firm at my throat, not squeezing but owning. His eyes met mine, and they were blazing with need and something deeper, something truer. For a moment, a single heartbeat, he hesitated, a flicker of restraint, a question.

But I'd given him my answer. He already knew it.

Blake's mouth crashed onto mine with a fierceness that matched my own. The world faded away, and there was only this: our bodies colliding, my fingers in his hair, his teeth grazing my lip, my skin, my neck.

He ripped my clothes off, the fabric tearing under his hands, my heart racing as I arched into him, feeling the heat of his skin, the press of him against me.

I wanted it rough. Needed it raw. With a certainty that eclipsed everything else.

---