I laughed, my hands flying to my mouth as tears stung my eyes. I felt like I was vibrating out of my skin, like I might float straight off the stage if I didn’t find something to anchor myself to.
We soaked in this moment for a little while longer before Madame Germaine promised to post the rest of the cast list by Monday’s rehearsal. She told us all to go home and rest over the weekend before pinning me with her wicked eyes.
“Congratulations, Evangeline,” she said softly. Pointedly, as if to say that the investor wasn’t the only reason I was about to be the lead. “You deserved it.”
I followed the other dancers to the exit before the voice spoke again, stopping me. “Evangeline will stay.”
The sound of my name from his mouth hit me like a physical thing—like a hand curling around my spine. The spirit of joy and celebration screeched to a halt, everyone eyeing me with either confusion or concern. The room was dead silent.
I looked helplessly at Madame Germaine. She met my gaze, expression unreadable. “You heard the investor,” she said. “Everyone else is dismissed.”
No one argued. The other dancers filed out of the door, all of them silently wondering what the man hidden in the audience could want with me. To be honest, I was wondering myself.
Mia grabbed my hand and squeezed me once more. “I’ll call you later, Eva. Okay?”
Then she, too, was ushered away.
The stage lights dimmed further before the accompanist skittered out the door. The theater was now empty.
My pulse skidded.
Slow footsteps echoed from the audience. A tall figure rose from the shadows, descending the aisle with unhurried confidence. I tried to make out who it was, but he stopped short of the stage, still half-obscured by darkness.
But suddenly the shadows shifted, and I realized I knew him.
I’d know him anywhere.
“Alek,” I breathed.
He slowly stepped onto the stage, the light seemingly dimming under the weight of his dangerous aura, fracturing against the crown of his hair. The circles under his eyes were dark, but his irises were darker as they roamed my body, the blue a sharpened hunger like a blade made of midnight.
Weeks apart hadn’t dulled him. Every inch of him radiated something predatory. Something that would eat me alive if I let him.
He was temptation give form—his black suit molded to his tall, broad body, tanned skin contoured by sin. He wore a watch that made my eyes bulge out of my head a little, but nothing made my body react more than the way he looked at me like the leash he held himself back with was thinner than a spider’s silk, ready to snap.
The thought should have terrified me. I was alone with a man I barely knew. Everyone else was gone. The theater was far too old and outdated to have any sort of cameras or security, which meant that Alek could theoretically do whatever he wanted with me.
But instead of frightening me, my sickened soul wasexcited.
Maybe Mia was right. Maybe the only prince I needed was a prince of darkness.
“Congratulations, solnyshka,” he murmured, lips quirking at the corner. “You will make a beautiful Juliet.
“You—” I swallowed. “You’re the one who sent me flowers? You’re the investor?”
“Yes.”
“But…” My words sank in my throat under the weight of my many questions. “How? When?”
He stepped forward, and all I could smell was the musk of his no-doubt expensive cologne, an intoxicating smell that had me forgetting everything but him. “Because I wanted to be here.”
“Why?”
He reached forward, cupping my cheek with his large hand and stroking my parted lips with his thumb, eyes turning black at the sight. “Because I saw something I wanted. And I had to have it.”
And maybe it was naive of me. Maybe it was my experience showing. But a part of me wondered if he meantme.If Alek didn’t see the Company, butme.
Because I was starting to want him. Not in the distant, dreamy way I’d always imagined wanting someone, but in a way that settled into my bones and refused to leave. Desperately, helplessly, without logic or permission. I didn’t care if he was my Prince Charming or something far more dangerous. He was here—real, solid, warm against my body—and that mattered more than any fairytale I’d ever been told.
