When the last note faded, dissolving into the chandelier-lit air, the silence stretched for one perfect heartbeat.
Then the applause crashed over me like a wave.
The sound was physical, thunderous, and overwhelming. I stood frozen at the microphone while hundreds of hands came together in a rhythm that seemed to shake the chandeliers overhead. My heart, which had been hammering with fear moments ago, now pounded with something else entirely, something like... joy. Pride. Exhilaration.
I blinked against the stage lights, trying to process what was happening. They were applauding. Actually applauding. Not the polite golf-claps I'd sometimes gotten on street corners from people who dropped coins more out of pity than appreciation, but genuine applause that carried weight and meaning. Some people were standing now, rising from their seats in expensive gowns and tailored suits, and the sound grew even louder.
My eyes scanned the darkness beyond the lights, searching. I needed to see them, needed to know all my Alphas were there with me.
I found Kade first, standing at the back of the ballroom near the doors. His tall frame was impossible to miss even in the crowd. Pride blazed in those eyes, fierce and absolute, mixed with something else that made heat pool low in my stomach.
Movement beside Kade drew my attention. Theo stood there. His chest was puffed out with pride, and I watched his face transform with a beaming smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes.
He wasn't watching the crowd like Kade was. His entire focus remained fixed on me, steady and unwavering, and I could read the approval in every line of his body. The quiet satisfaction in his smile said; You did it, honey, louder than any words could have.
Then there was my Lucian, standing beside me, as he picked me up and spun me in the air. “Congratulations, beautiful! You did it!” I beamed back at him, lost for words.
The spotlight caught the sheen in his eyes, and I realized with a jolt that they were glistening. Not quite tears, but close. His eyes held an admiration so intense it made me want to look away, but I couldn't. The connection between us through the music we'd created still thrummed in the air, almost visible, and his rosewood scent seemed to reach me even across the stage.
The applause was fading, people settling back into their seats, and I realized I needed to acknowledge them properly. I curtsied, the midnight blue gown pooling around me like water as I dipped low. My cheeks burned with a mixture of exhilaration and residual fear, my heart still racing from the performance's adrenaline.
My stage manager appeared beside me, gesturing toward the wings, and I realized I needed to exit. I looked at Lucian, and he nodded. “I’ll be right behind you,” he said, smiling.
My legs felt steadier now than when I'd walked on, though whether that was because the performance was over or because I'd found my center during it, I couldn't say.
As I walked offstage, the crowd's energy shifted. People were standing, moving, and conversations were starting in animated bursts. I caught glimpses of faces turning toward me, lips moving, and hands lifting in gestures I couldn't interpret from this distance.
Then they were there, surrounding me the moment I stepped into the wings. Wealthy patrons in clothing that cost more than I'd earned in a year of street singing. Industry executives with practiced smiles and business cards appearing from seemingly nowhere. Their perfume was overwhelming up close, expensive and cloying, mixing into something that made my nose itch.
“Absolutely stunning,” a woman in emerald silk said, pressing a card into my hand. “My firm represents several artists. We should talk.”
“Remarkable tone quality,” an older man with silver hair added. “Have you considered recording an album? I know several producers who would be very interested.”
More voices joined. They complimented my range, my emotional delivery, and my stage presence. They offered opportunities and connections, painting pictures of a future I'd never imagined possible. Their attention should have beenflattering, and part of me recognized it was. This was success. This was what I'd been working toward.
But I couldn't focus on them. My eyes kept searching past their expensive shoulders, looking for the three figures I knew were waiting. The people surrounding me were strangers, no matter how kind their words or generous their offers. They saw the performance, the potential, the money, but they didn't see me.
My Alphas did.
I responded to the compliments with words I barely registered myself, my mouth forming polite thank-you’s and gracious acceptances of business cards while my mind was elsewhere. The crowd pressed closer, more faces appearing, more hands reaching out, and I felt the first flutter of anxiety in my chest. Too many people. Too close. Too much.
Then I saw them through a gap in the crowd. Kade, Theo, and Lucian, standing together near the backstage entrance, not pushing forward but waiting. Patient. Letting me navigate this moment on my own but making sure I knew exactly where they were when I needed them.
The difference between who I'd been and who I was now hit me with sudden clarity. Three months ago, I'd been crouched in an alley, my voice raw from cold and overuse, my fingers too numb to count the few coins strangers had tossed. I'd smelled like the streets, looked like desperation, and felt like a ghost haunting my own life.
Now I stood in a designer gown, surrounded by people who wanted something from me because I had value. My hair was styled, my skin clean, my body healthy from regular meals and safety. I'd performed on a stage in front of hundreds, and instead of flinching from attention, I'd commanded it.
I was radiant. Not just surviving but thriving. No longer hiding in shadows but standing in spotlights. And most importantly, I wasn't alone anymore.
My eyes met Kade's across the crowd, and I saw his expression shift. Recognition. Understanding.
I murmured something apologetic to the woman still talking about representation deals, tucked the business cards I'd collected into the small clutch I'd forgotten I was carrying, and began moving through the crowd. People parted reluctantly, still trying to catch my attention, but I kept my eyes forward, focused on where my Alphas waited.
Each step that brought me closer to them felt like coming home.
Chapter Thirty-one
Jasmine
