Page 9 of Dance Omega Dance

For a moment, the haze in my head thinned, anchoring me more firmly in the present. Pain burned away the shock, dragging me back into my body, whether I wanted to be here or not. I was awake; I was trapped, and I washurting.

And I was still very much alive.

The voice of a man, both muffled and far away, sounded above me. Shit. I needed help, but from who? My scent would be detectable throughout the damaged theater now, impossible to hide or suppress.

Shaker City was supposed to be different... more progressive, with laws protecting omegas from forced bonding. But laws meant nothing in moments of crisis, when primal instincts kicked in.

I pushed again, gritting my teeth as pain flared through my ankle. The beam groaned but didn’t give, just shifted enough to send a fresh cascade of debris clattering around me. Sharp edges scraped my arms. I hissed through my teeth, trying not to cry out again.

My leotard was shredded now... filthy, torn, useless. Every breath scraped against grit. Every inch of me felt exposed, vulnerable, and raw.

My fingers found something smooth amid the wreckage. I dug through the rubble with trembling hands and pulled out a jagged shard of mirror, its edge sharp enough to cut if I wasn't careful.

Good.

I clutched it anyway. The cool mirror signified safety against my worst fear. If someone came... if it was an alpha, one who smelled the fear on me, whowantedthat fear... I’d have something. A warning. A weapon.

I held it up, just enough to catch the faintest reflection.

What stared back almost stopped my heart. My face was streaked with grime and blood. Eyes too wide, too wild; with a fear that belonged to both the woman I had become and the child I'd once been.

I blinked hard, breath catching. That version of me, the little girl who couldn’t fight back, she wasn’t here.Iwas. I was bruised, trapped, bleeding... but I wasn’t helpless.

Not anymore.

The sight shocked me back to full awareness, the past receding just enough to let me think clearly.

"Hello?" I called out, my voice stronger now despite the dust coating my throat. "Is anyone there? I'm trapped!"

My words seemed to vanish into the surrounding debris, absorbed by splintered wood and crumbled plaster. I listened for a response, hearing only the distant sounds of emergency workers somewhere in the main auditorium.

The reality of my situation settled over me like another layer of dust. I was alone, trapped, and broadcasting omega distress pheromones powerful enough to cut through the acrid smells of disaster.

A new sound reached me then, closer than the rescue workers, more deliberate than falling debris. Footsteps. Someone picking their way through the wreckage, moving with purpose rather than panic.

"Help!" I called again, hope and fear tangling in my chest. "I'm here! I need help!"

The footsteps paused, then changed direction, heading toward my voice with renewed determination. Relief floodedthrough me, quickly followed by apprehension. Who had found me?

I tightened my grip on the mirror shard, ignoring the sting as its edge bit into my palm. The footsteps grew closer, accompanied now by the sound of debris being shifted aside. Whoever approached was strong enough to move obstacles that would have challenged most people.

Alpha. The realization came with certainty, a knowledge as old as my biology. The scent reached me a moment later. It was distinctly male, distinctly alpha, carrying notes of something clean and earthy, deep and alluring.

My panic spilled out in waves, saturating the air with the heady, primal scent of an omega in distress.

And it was strong.Too strong.I could feel the shift in the atmosphere, that unmistakable tension of beingsensed.

Then, a voice. Hard. Firm.Alpha.

“Don’t move. I’ve got you.”

My heart hammered against my ribs, fight-or-flight instincts screaming in a body that could do neither. I was exposed in the most fundamental way possible, physically trapped, emotionally raw.

The debris above me shifted, light spilling into my confined space as someone began to clear a path. I blinked against the sudden brightness, the mirror shard trembling in my bloodied grip as I prepared to face whoever had found me in this moment of absolute vulnerability.

He heaved upward, a controlled surge of power that lifted the beam several crucial inches. Pain flared through my injured ankle as the pressure changed, but I bit back a cry and dragged myself backward as instructed.

Then he shifted his weight, using his shoulder to brace the beam higher. "Almost there," he grunted. "Need to... secure it..."

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