Page 44 of Lord of Dance and Desire

“Smart girl. And good luck tonight, though we both know luck has nothing to do with it for once.” She gave me an odd smile and sauntered away.

Chapter

Eleven

My life shouldn't boil down to the next three hours.

My life should be about more than whether or not I earned a soloist or better spot in the High Lord’s company.

But as I stepped out onto the stage as part of the first small group number, feeling weight in the crowd that was not just Andrei, but an older, stronger presence, I couldn't find it in me to care about balance. Perspective. Any of that other madness.

I was what I was. A dancer. A ballet dancer.

A baby succubus, who needed dance to feed her soul.

There would never be any balance for me, and I didn't care. If someone came along and shattered my kneecaps and I was no longer able to dance, I would question my reason for living.

That made me a little insane. Definitely not entirely healthy.

But I would rather live my life with this all-consuming passion, than live my life empty of the energy derived from having an encompassing, blinding goal.

Samuel, Cora, and I danced together, opening the evening. Interesting choreography, because they were an elegant match, both tall and willowy while I was more petite, my body ripe with packed muscle and curves. But dancing between them I looked doll-like, fragile. A mortal swept away between her two immortal lovers.

Samuel had been tickled pink by the concept, and the makeup and costuming, which took his vibrant attractiveness and made it something underworldly. And Coralene. . .for once she didn't dance as if she was indifferent.

When it mattered, she danced as if it was all consuming to her, as well.

When we left the stage, the crowd erupted in applause. It wasn't the Cassanian way, but during these showcases since the dancers were largely human, human customs were followed.

“Was she watching?” Samuel demanded of Vargas backstage, his voice pitched a little high. “Did she look bored?”

The she, of course, being the High Lord.

“She wasn't bored,” I said.

Samuel turned on me, his nervous energy infectious. Or it would have been, if I was just another human dancer.

“How do you know?” he demanded.

Because I could feel her eyes on me in the crowd.

I could always feel their eyes.

And because while dancing, I'd wrapped my partners in a bit of my mystery, lending them some of my power. If there was one thing taking a bonded who came with an established familygroup had taught me, it was that with the right people, you were always stronger together than alone.

But they had to be the right people.

“Kawelo,” the stage manager barked when the group numbers were over. “Get ready. Your solo is up next.”

Vargas had placed me towards the end of the lineup. After all the humans and before any of the Cassanian soloists.

The stage went dark, and I stepped forward on silent feet to my mark, contorting my body in the opening position, and waiting for the queue of music.

Around me gray mist began to fill the stage, the backdrop filling with the visuals I'd painstakingly crafted with the set designer.

And the crowd fell quiet.

I tasted their yearning. How anyone could stand in front of them on this stage and notknow.. .the need, the pain, the endless hunger searching for something more.

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