Page 149 of Hard Knot

"By all means," he says, "if you're prepared to perform..."

I search James' face, uncertainty creeping in.

"Can you actually pull this off?"

His laugh is warm and familiar.

"You're underestimating me, Eli." He leans in close, our eyes locking with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "I'll follow your lead."

Something about his absolute confidence, the way he's looking at me like he has complete faith in my abilities, settles the nervousness fluttering in my chest.

A smile spreads across my face as I move to grab my new phone, silently thanking whatever instinct made me download Spotify this morning.

My fingers find the song easily — muscle memory from how many times I've played it, practicing alone in empty studios. As Iconnect the aux cord to the sound system, I can't help scanning the audience for Carter, but he seems to have disappeared.

My eyes drift to the back of the room where Holmes stands in his usual spot, watching.

The sight surprises me — I know he has either kickboxing or some other physical training scheduled for this time slot. He never misses those sessions, yet here he is, sunglasses in place but his presence unmistakable.

Something's definitely going on.

But I push the thought aside as I take my position beside James. This isn't the time for speculation about the pack's secrets.

"Break a leg," he whispers, that competitive spark dancing in his eyes.

I pinch his arm, hard.

"Don't say that! It's bad luck!"

"Whatever you say," he replies with a playful smirk, but as the first notes fill the air, something shifts between us.

It's like slipping into a familiar dream — the energy crackling between us reminds me of late-night practice sessions throughout our years at school, of the way we used to push each other to be better without ever acknowledging the underlying tension.

The music builds, and I feel that old connection click into place. This isn't just about proving something to Richardson or the other judges.

This is about reclaiming something I thought I'd lost forever.

The chance to dance with someone who truly sees me.

The polished hardwood whispers beneath my pointe shoes as I take my starting position, but this time, something's different.

James stands beside me, his presence both familiar and electrifying. His black dance attire contrasts sharply with mywhite mesh top, creating a visual harmony that feels almost too perfect to be coincidental.

Like light and shadow preparing to dance.

The whispers from the wings seem more intense than usual, the other Omegas practically vibrating with confusion and anticipation. After all, it's not every day you see an Alpha willing to perform alongside an Omega.

I catch glimpses of our reflection in the mirror-lined walls – my tattoos visible through the white mesh, James's controlled power, like we shouldn't belong together, and yet...

Maybe that's exactly why we do.

The haunting intro of "Do You See Me Now" begins to fill the space, and this time, when I move, I'm not alone. James matches me step for step, his movements perfectly synchronized with mine as if we've been practicing this for years instead of minutes.

The classical portion flows like silk, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. His hands find my waist at exactly the right moments, lifting me into arabesques that seem to defy gravity. Every turn, every gesture becomes a conversation between our bodies – a dance of trust and precision that makes the whispers from the wings fade into insignificance.

"Swallow my tongue. Back of my throat. Like it's finite. Only so long I can chew till I choke."

James's presence transforms what was once a solo of defiance into a duet of shared strength. When he lifts me, it's with such careful control that I feel weightless, able to extend into positions that would be impossible alone.

---