Page 3 of Juliet & Her Romeos

This is my sleepwear because I’m meant to be in bed. Swan and I both are.

But when do we ever do what we’re meant to?

We wouldn’t have survived, if we did.

There’s too much at stake.

When I raise my arms to stretch them, the Rej bracelet jangles.

I wrinkle my nose, hating the weight of the steel bracelet, which marks me out as a Reject Omega.

A twistedRhangs like an ugly charm from the bracelet, holding technology inside that will alert the government if I try to remove it.

There are two reasons to be marked as a Rej.

Be defective

Be rebellious.

The Academy marked me as a Rej 1, when I didn’t start having heats.

I’m judged defective because I’m infertile: A non-heat or NH.

The doctor said that the overly intense training practices had damaged my heats.

I was devastated.

It’s made me even more determined, however, to win this R & J contest. Also, desperate to escape the Romeo Ballet Company, who’ve already taken so much from me.

Swan is only wearing the same as I am.

When I glance at him, my cheeks redden further.

The tight, black t-shirt clings to his muscular but graceful dancer’s body, as Swan leans over the barre. He raises his leg behind him repeatedly in arabesque lifts. He has the same energy as if he’d just woken up, rather than already been through fourteen hours of exhausting rehearsals.

On the other hand, I’m ready to curl under my thin blanket in our bedroom.

I swallow, studying the way that Swan’s position emphasizes his strong back and lean legs. His thin underwear is pulled tight on each lift of his leg over his tight ass.

It would be a crime not to look at such a fine ass, right?

I pinch my lips, however, because he’s too thin.

Dimitri is starving him again.

Swan never tells me.

In fact, he tries to feed me his breakfasts and dinners, whenever he can.

But I can tell.

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