Page 85 of Teach Me to Fly

“Stop, you’re going to make me blush,” he deadpans, then leans in with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Want to know what Wendy’s wearing?”

I raise a brow. “Tell me.”

He makes a face. “A puffy black feather dress.”

I blink. “So… she’s the Black Swan?”

“More rooster than swan, if you ask me.”

I bite back a laugh as I roll my eyes in response.

He takes my hand. “Ready?”

“No,” I whisper. “But let’s get this over with.”

We walk through the candlelit hallway, and I hear a live symphony rising from downstairs—violins and soft percussion. At the top of the grand staircase, Lando stops and faces me.

“Make an entrance,” he says with a wink. “And don’t trip. But if you do, at least fall beautifully and pretend it was intentional.”

I laugh under my breath. “Thanks.”

He kisses my cheek and runs down the stairs first, leaving me to take a steadying breath. I begin to descend and the moment my pointe shoe touches the first stair, I feel the room sway, but I push forward. As the guests come into view below, heads turn and voices hush, eyes on me.

The train of my gown swishes behind me, feathers swaying, and the chandelier light catches the pearls at my neckline and the mask over my face. I move slowly, as graceful as I can manage, as if I’m not shaking inside.

My eyes catch on Reign at the bottom of the stairs. He’s dressed in a custom-tailored black suit with white gold embroidery stitched into the lapels, just like swan wings, matching my dress. His mask is a simple matte black, sculpted perfectly to his face, but it doesn’t hide his blue eyes piercing through the crowd and locked on me.

The moment I meet his gaze, a wave of calm rolls over me and the nerves vanish. As if the chaos of the night, the pressure, the weight of this role and all it symbolizes for Imperium, for me… none of it matters. Not while he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room.

As I take the final step, the soft tap of my shoe’s echoes against the marble, and Reign steps forward, taking my hand without a word, fingers threading through mine, his touch is warm and grounding as his eyes roam over me slowly—neck to waist to the tips of my shoes—and when he meets my gaze again, it’s like the rest of the world disappears.

“You’re going to ruin every man in this room who thought they were going to get your attention tonight,” he murmurs.

Heat blooms up my neck. “Reign?—”

His smirk curves slowly. “Don’t blush now. I haven’t even gotten to the part about what I want to do to you later.”

I let out a breathy laugh, cheeks burning behind my mask. He lifts my hand to his lips and presses an indulgent kiss to the back of it. Then, with his other hand, he passes me a champagne flute, the crystal glass already fizzing with gold.

“For the nerves,” he says. “And to celebrate how goddamn lucky I am.”

I take it with a grateful nod, the bubbles tickling my lipsas I sip. He keeps hold of my hand and guides me into the crowd. Wherever Reign walks, people part for him, and I follow. He stops in front of a small group—three men and a woman in cocktail masks, all laughing behind flutes of champagne. The moment we step into their circle, the air shifts and their attention locks on him, and then on me.

“Ah,” one of them says. “The elusive Mr. Harrington. You’ve been keeping out of sight for quite some time.”

“I’ve been working hard behind the scenes,” Reign says smoothly, before sliding his hand around my waist. “May I introduce Angelique Sinclair—our Odette and Odile. The soul of Swan Lake.”

Their eyes snap to me, glittering with curiosity.

“She’s even more stunning in person,” the woman murmurs.

“The one from New York?” one man asks.

Reign’s voice turns darkly proud. “She’s the best principal I’ve ever shared a stage with.”

The praise makes my spine straighten. I smile politely, but my heart thuds against my ribs. Reign’s thumb rubs a slow, grounding circle against the small of my back. His body angled toward mine, protective without being obvious.

“She’s the reason this entire production exists,” he adds, eyes never leaving mine.

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