Page 160 of Juliet & Her Romeos

Despite the fact that Ambrose had promised that he wasn’t going to follow the Bonding Night Tradition to stop us dancing, a part of me was waiting for the punchline, when he’d rip it away from us.

Ambrose’s gaze became frosty. “You have less than two weeks to get in your best physical shape to win. Practice, andthat’san order.”

Swan and I have been training harder this week at the barre, than if we had the Dance Master behind us with the cane.

When you’re dancing because your pack’s future depends on it, then it lights a fire in you.

Plus, everything is different now.

We’re not dancing for the academy. We’re not even truly dancing for Ambrose.

We’re dancing for ourselves.

On that stage, I want to prove that an Omega can be the best principal.

The contest will be televised.

How many Omegas will see me? How many will I inspire?

Plus, Swan’s been using the gym to increase his strength for the lifts and carries. It’s been funny to see him working in there next to Ambrose, and how the men have been trying to out jock each other to impress me.

Yesterday, Benedict and I lounged on the bed with amused expressions, while Swan and Ambrose sweated and panted in a competition to see who could do the most push-ups.

Vito doesn’t bother to compete.

My lips curled in satisfaction, when the ballet dancing Beta beat the much taller, Alpha football player.

But then, Ambrose hasn’t been whipped, if he failed to achieve his exercise goals, since he was a tiny kid.

Swan and I are survivors. We’re tough.

Of course, Ambrose earned himself the standard punishment.

Benedict and I prowled off the bed and enjoyedpunishingAmbrose with kisses for the next half an hour.

Who says exercise isn’t fun?

Now, I scowl, pulling my warm coat more closely around myself against the freezing night.

Wandering down the icy path that leads behind Romeo Hall by myself, however, isn’t fun.

The air nips at my red nose. I shiver, shoving my hands into my pockets. I didn’t even get the chance to grab gloves.

Bare trees line the path. Icicles hang like frozen tears, trailing from the branches. Under the moonlight, the gravel sparkles like I’m crunching over diamonds.

I study the bright stars.

At least it’s a clear night.

This would be romantic, if I wasn’t alone.

Except, I don’t truly feel like I am. With this fated bond, I can sense my mates and carry them in my heart at all times.

Unusually, each one of them feels joyful and excited tonight.

I cherish the feeling.

The stars feel closer than normal like I could stretch out my hand and touch them.

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