Page 130

Around me, the rest of the dancers buzz with the same post-performance high. Everyone speaks a little louder than usual, laughing through exhaustion, hugging one another, congratulating each other between shaky breaths. Parents and friends weave through the crowd carrying oversized bouquets wrapped in crackling cellophane. Friends call out names. Cameras flash. Someone cries happy tears in the corner while another dancer limps toward the dressing rooms still wearing one pointe shoe.

It’s chaos.

Beautiful chaos.

I smile until my cheeks hurt, grinning when someone presses flowers into my hands. Someone else hugs me. I nod and answer questions I barely hear. Madame Duval comes over, and her normally stoic expression softens to match mine.

“Well done, Arianette.”

“Thank you for giving me the opportunity.”

“There was no other choice, dear.”

She keeps speaking, but I continually glance over her shoulder because I’m searching. They said they’d come. I never doubted they would. But knowing they’d be here and seeing them are two completely different things.

Especially not two days before the Equinox. While I danced, Sofia was crossing campus like a deer passing a hunter’s blind. While Amber continued to evade all of our traps.

The steady buzz of conversation falters. Heads turn. People step aside without realizing they’re doing it. That’s the effect of power. Real, unquestionable power.

But it isn’t my men walking through the curtain backstage. I see Killian’s height first, followed by Remy’s blond hair. My gaze darts around, confused. Worried. Why else would a King come to my ballet? Or Timothy’s estranged son?

I rush forward. “Remy? Did something happen?” Fear creeps up my throat. I try to push the panic down, but the only reason they’d be here is if something went wrong—tragically, terribly wrong. Oh, God.

“Hey,” a female voice draws me back to the surface. I blink, and the others come into view: Story and Lavinia. Lex and Verity. The girls all clutch bouquets of bright, bursting flowers.

Verity speaks again, “It’s okay. We just came to tell you how amazing that was.”

“Seriously,” Story says. “That was incredible. Like, I felt it in my chest.”

I glance at Remy, whose jaw is tight in that way that makes me think he hates me, but he gives me a small nod and something unspools behind my ribs.

“I thought—” I sputter, not wanting to admit what I thought. “I just hadn’t seen my Barons, so I thought…”

“Everything is fine,” Killian finishes. He’s far too big and bulky to be in this room among all the petite dancers and costumes. “It’s been a quiet night.”

“Too quiet,” Lex adds, reflexively checking his phone.

“You think the alternative is better?” Verity asks, and Lex sighs, pressing a kiss to her temple. I feel his frustration. No trouble is good, but it also means Amber is still out there.

Lavinia steps forward and gives me her bouquet. “It’s tradition, right?”

I nod.

“Well, the girls are right. You killed it out there.” Her eyes drift to my hair. “And damn, you look fucking epic.”

“Thank you.” I absently touch the curls. “But why are you here?”

“After seeing you at the Gilded Rose I knew we had to come.” Verity threads her fingers with Lex’s.

“And we couldn’t let her show the rest of us up by making an appearance,” Story adds. “I didn’t know it would be so good though.”

“It turned out better than expected,” Verity says with a smile, also handing me the bouquet she’s holding. “But just so you know, I’m the only natural redhead around here.”

I grin back. “Noted.”

The tone in the room shifts, and this time when I look to the door, I know it’s them. The whole room does, eyes swinging in their direction—and a new set of emotions erupts in my belly. I’d been nervous revealing my new look during the performance, but I also wanted it to be a surprise. When I looked in the mirror this afternoon, I almost didn’t recognize myself. The copper haloed around my head like a ring of fire. The wildness of it. I didn’t want them to see Arianette on the stage. I wanted them to see the Chosen One.

But off the stage? Would they like it? Will they still see me beneath it?