Page 98 of When Hearts Awaken

I’ve missed him in every performance since Prague. His intensity. His electrifying gaze. How he wears his banked emotions in his startling blue eyes.

I’m not performing for you.I once told him in Sir Ian’s office.

But I want to perform for him now. Because whatever happens, he has awakened my heart, and because of him, I feel something.

I rake in a deep breath before smiling at Dev, taking on the persona of the seductive, strong black swan who pretends to be the white swan the prince actually loves. I often wonder what the black swan’s true motive is, what Mom was trying to tell me all those years ago.

Dev tugs me into him, our dance second nature by now. We move from the slower adagio movement to the faster allegro. I imagine he’s Charles, the man I’ve been missing, and this is my way of telling him I miss him and want him. My grazes become bolder, my pirouettes and leaps stronger. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dev’s eyes widen, no doubt wondering what’s gotten into me.

Then comes the thirty-two fouetté turns—thirty-two nonstop turns that are one of the most difficult moves in the ballet.

I’m a fighter…a survivor. I am alive and I’m fucking thriving.

My body thrums with energy as I throw myself into the turns, one after another, embracing my dark past, the black feathers sprouting from my skin.

I’m flying. With or without anyone, wherever my future takes me. I am flying as Odette and Odile.

Breathless exhilaration rushes through me as I come down from the difficult sequence. Dev’s smile widens—there’s awe in his gaze, and I hear loud applause breaking through the audience—normally, they’d wait until the dance was over.

Tears glimmer in my eyes, my heart pounding with a bittersweet joy.

I am Taylor Peyton-Anderson, almost twenty-four years old. Yes, I’ve had a difficult past, but I’ve risen above it and I accept myself now.

I am free.

My eyes sweep over the blurry crowd as I move into the final pose.

And I see him.

His passionate eyes trained on me from where he stands in the box closest to the stage. He’s clapping like the others, his lips curved into a smile.

He’s here.

Happiness rushes through me, giving me a high much more powerful than the cheers and applause from the audience. I bite my lip before smiling back and I see the acknowledging smolder in his gaze. But there’s something else in those eyes I’ve grown to love.

Something heavy and undecipherable. I frown.

The rest of the performance passes by without a hitch and we’re met with a standing ovation at the curtain call. Sir Ian glances at me and gives me a nod of approval.

“Excellent,”he mouths.

I know I’ll never be the Odette from the stage all those years ago.

But it’s okay.

I can shine as Odile. I can embrace the black swan. A weight has been lifted off my chest and I can finally breathe.

After changing out of my outfit and giving Lisa and Dev quick hugs, I dash out of the dressing room to backstage, then to the lobby, searching for a tall man with blond hair and icy blue eyes, a man I used to hate but am feeling very much the opposite emotion right now.

The lingering crowd gathers around me in excitement, notebooks and writing pads thrusted at my face, Russian and English requests blurting from their lips. I smile absentmindedly and sign autographs, my eyes still roving over the opulent marble interior, trying to find him.

I couldn’t have been mistaken, could I?

But he isn’t here.

After security escorts the crowd away, disappointment weighs inside me as I head out the side door, where a van would pick us up to take us back to the hotel.

As soon as I step outside to the frigid cold in the sea of white, I see him…

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