Page 181 of Juliet & Her Romeos

A wave of grief hits me.

“Mom.” I sob, knowing that she’ll never be able to see me dance or know that I grew up to become a principal and find my own pack — be happy. “Mom.”

Yet amidst the storm that’s battering me, I don’t push Ambrose away like I can sense he expects me to. I hold him close, needing his quiet strength.

He’s suffered for me.

I understand him now.

He’s my Alpha.

And neither of us will be alone with these demons any longer.

“Juliet…” He whispers, kissing the top of my head.

We sit for long moments in the silence of the ballroom.

“I want them to pay for what they’ve done.” My voice is rough and hard. “I don’t know how but I won’t rest until they do.”

“Then I’ll support you in that,” Ambrose replies. “I’ve been working on it myself for years.”

When a ringtone for a text sounds from the phone in his trouser pocket, he ignores it.

But then it sounds again.

Sighing, Ambrose pulls his phone out. When he stiffens, I glance up at him.

Ambrose’s expression is shuttered again.

“No more secrets.” My voice is thick with tears. “We don’t bury anything from now on.”

“Then I won’t hide the bad news,” Ambrose replies. “Those texts were from Laurent. He was taking a huge risk to warn us that Mom is returning to try and catch me out. She intends to do a surprise inspection to see how I’m handling things. We have almost no time to prepare. Our plans are fucked. She’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Romeo Hall, Sanctum

Numb, I kneel in the middle of Benedict’s nest in the library. The pages of the books surround me in a sea of words, but I can’t read any of them.

My mind is foggy. My vision is blurred.

I’m lost in the past, in a time when Nova would hold my hand as she lead me into Prima Ballet Theater with a sparkling smile. I’d watch her from the stalls, glowing with pride as she danced and I dreamed that one day I could become like her.

And I have.

But she’ll never know it or see me dance.

I’ll never hold her hand again.

My eyes are red from crying but dry of tears.

I’m all wept out from yesterday and last night. I’ve been grieving since I found out the truth of Mom’s murder.

I ran to the library, alone.

I understand why Benedict needs this quiet space now.

I had to be by myself with my memories. I don’t have the time to work through my feelings because I must become in control of my emotions like Ambrose is.

---