Page 49 of Dance Omega Dance

The movements became softer as I leaned into him. Each touch sent tremors through me, real and undeniable. Anders was a constant, an unfaltering presence that made the empty spaces inside me feel less hollow.

“We’re not meant to be alone,” he whispered, his breath warm on my skin. “Even when we think it’s safer.”

I heard the unspoken words behind his own. What he didn’t say was just as loud. Maybe louder. My eyes opened, meeting his, and I found something there I hadn’t expected. Acceptance. Of me, of my scars, of everything I wasn’t ready to believe about myself.

The dance shifted, becoming something alive and raw. Anders listened with more than his ears, with the entirety of his being, and it left me defenseless in the best possible way.

I spoke of my past; fragments I hadn’t intended to share. The fear of losing my parents, the terror of being alone, the way I’d run from every bond that tried to hold me. It poured out in an unexpected rush. Despite that, Anders was there, never pulling back, never giving less than everything.

He offered insights, words that resonated with truths I was only beginning to understand. “It’s okay to be cautious,” he told me, the strength of his voice matching the strength of his hold. “But don’t let it stop you from living.”

Living. I wasn’t sure I remembered how, but he made me want to try... they all did. I spoke of hope, quiet and tentative, a future I’d barely let myself imagine. He listened, nodding, never once dismissing the depth of what I felt.

The studio filled with our shared scent. It made the air thick, charged with possibility.

“Thank you,” I said, the words simple but carrying the weight of everything he’d given me. They felt like a beginning, the first step in a dance I wasn’t afraid of anymore.

Chapter Twenty-two

Iopened the fridge and stared into the wasteland of near-expired condiments and a single sad lemon. "Do all men live like this, or is it just you?" I called over my shoulder, grinning as I shut the door.

Zach appeared in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck like he’d been caught committing a crime. “I was going to get groceries. Eventually.”

“Eventually doesn’t help me figure out dinner,” I said, leaning against the counter. “Unless you’re into ketchup and... mystery pickles?”

He chuckled. “Come on. I’ll take you to the store. You can educate me on what actual humans eat.”

We dodged grocery carts like secret agents, darting between displays with overly dramatic urgency. Zach grabbed my hand and spun me into the bread aisle like we were dancing, laughing as if he were a full-time comedian. I laughed in a way I didn’t recognize, a sound that came from somewhere deep, somewhere free. The sound startled me. It felt unburdened, real. Like it came from a part of me I thought was long gone.

His cedarwood scent wrapped around me, warm and steady, and for a moment, I let myself get pulled into the illusion. Just us. Just two normal people.

"Crunchy or smooth?" he asked, holding up two jars of peanut butter like they were weapons in a duel.

"Does it matter?" I said, trying not to laugh at his frown.

"It always matters." He tossed me one, eyes sparkling, and I caught it with a roll of my eyes just before he lobbed another. His laughter rang out, deep and infectious, pulling another smile from me.

We moved through the store with ease, filling the cart with everything from cereal to cleaning supplies. With him beside me, the mundane felt almost magical. His presence softened the sharp edges inside me. For once, I wasn’t thinking about the past or the weight I always carried.

"Race you to the checkout," he teased, taking off before I could respond. I chased after him, laughing under my breath, the thrill of it settling warm in my chest.

We bagged the groceries and loaded them into the car, the easy rhythm between us lingering like sunlight after dusk. I didn’t want to lose it. I let myself relax, my guard slipping just a little more.

“You know, you’re not so bad at this whole grocery shopping thing,” he said, handing me a bag.

“And here I thought you were the domestic one,” I teased.

We headed toward the car, and I let myself feel something close to peace.

And then I saw them.

Six hulking alphas, stalking toward us with deliberate strides. My blood iced over. Every muscle in my body locked tight.No. Not here!Zach followed my gaze, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. The warmth vanished. He stepped closer, instinctively putting himself between me and the threat.

I stopped dead. My slender fingers were white-knuckled against the handle of the shopping trolley. The air felt thick, their rotting scents forcing bile up my throat. I knew it was them before they reached us. My scent spiked with fear. I knew it did, but I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Terror crystalized in my bones as I drank in their profiles, their scents. The cruel twist of their smirks flashed me back to black hoods and hissed threats in the dark. "Where's the girl?" A gunshot. A scream cut short.

Zach stiffened at my strangled gasp. A low growl built in his chest as his cedarwood pheromones sharpened into a warning.

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