Page 29

Angelique

“ R eign!”

I blink awake and find myself standing in Reign’s bedroom, a flashlight shining at my face. I squint at the brightness and use my hands to block the light as I hear the rush of footsteps behind me, and a second later the bedroom light clicks on.

Terry is sitting in Reign’s bed, shirtless, holding his phone up with the flashlight feature on and staring at me with his mouth ajar.

“Mate,” he breathes, looking over my shoulder at Reign. “I swear she just walked in here on her own, all possessed looking.”

Fuck.

“Terry, I’m so sorry,” I say quickly, taking a step back and bumping straight into Reign's chest.

“She sleepwalks,” Reign says, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Close the door, Terry.”

He quietly steers me back to my room and gently helps me back into bed.

“That was extremely embarrassing,” I mutter into my hands. “He’s probably so freaked out.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Reign reassures me, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “He was more worried I’d beat the shit out of him if I found you two together.”

“Funny,” I say dryly, lowering my hands to my lap and looking at him now.

“I’m not joking.”

I tug the blanket higher, curling my fingers into it when I realize he means it. My heart skips, then pounds, a confused flutter of heat. I should feel uneasy, but I don’t. I feel… protected. Wanted, in a way that makes my chest ache. But instead of acknowledging it, I deflect.

“I don’t get why I’ve been sleepwalking.”

“The last time you did, it was after you drank all that wine at the restaurant,” he says. “And tonight, you had a few drinks, too.”

“You think the alcohol is triggering it?”

“It’s possible that it’s one of your triggers,” he says, standing up. “But don’t think of that for now. Try to get some more sleep.”

I nod and give him a grateful smile as he walks out of my room, turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

He’s right though, the times that I’ve sleepwalked were nights that I drank to the point of being drunk.

I think back to the morning after Lando’s party when I woke up on the couch with no memory of falling asleep there.

I had drunk champagne that night too. If alcohol is the reason, then I need to cut it out completely. I can’t keep doing this.

My phone alarm vibrates on my nightstand, dragging me out of my sleep.

I look at the time and see it’s ten past six in the morning, which means it’s time to get ready for what I hope is a good day at Imperium.

But seeing as it’s a day I’ll be spending rehearsing under Volkov’s eye, I can’t imagine it’ll be much better than last time.

I grab my clothes from the dresser and open my bedroom door so that I can get to the bathroom for a quick shower, but my soul almost leaves the earth when a body tumbles into my room as the door swings open.

Reign hits my floor with a thud and his brows furrow in pain before he opens his eyes and looks up at me.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, staring down at him. “Are you okay?”

He lets out a heavy sigh as he sits up, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, just fine.”

“Were you sleeping against my door?”

He nods. “Just wanted to make sure I could steer you back to bed in case you tried to sleepwalk again.”

“Oh,” I whisper.

My heart thuds fast in my chest as I take in what he just said. Reign gave up the comfort of the couch to sit guard outside my room door and stop me in case I tried to sleepwalk again.

He stands up and brushes off his clothes. “I’m going to go wake up Terry,” he says, walking out of my room without a glance back.

I step out into the hall and watch as he bangs on his bedroom door before barging in. “Time to get up, dickhead.”

Volkov sits on a chair in the corner of Studio B, eyes glued to me as I do warmup stretches next to Lando .

“I swear he has something against me,” I whisper to Lando.

But he doesn’t answer, eyes tracking Terry, who’s whispering to Reign as he stretches in front of him across the room from us. Wendy is in her own little corner, sitting on the floor and folded forward in a deep stretch, music from her earbuds blasting.

“Do you think Terry is bisexual?” Lando whispers, oblivious to the fact that he ignored me.

“One thousand percent.” I nod. “He was definitely flirting with you last night.”

“He was, wasn’t he?” Lando’s lips curve up into a smirk. “Too bad he doesn’t mess around with coworkers.”

“Oh, please,” I scoff. “If there’s anyone that can get him to break that rule, it’s you.”

Lando turns his smirk to me. “Thanks bestie, I love the confidence.”

“Enough stretching,” Volkov shouts from his corner, causing me and Lando to jump. “We begin.”

Terry mumbles under his breath, something about how that was his call to make, not Volkov’s, and comes to stand in the centre of the room.

“Alrighty folks, as you know, we made some changes to the choreography of Swan Lake,” Terry says, clapping his hands once.

Volkov doesn’t even look up from his notebook. “Hopefully, changes that make sense. Last version makes Odette look like she fall asleep mid dance.”

Wendy snorts and Terry, unbothered, grins. “Thank you for that glowing endorsement, Volkov. I will quote you on the posters.”

“That would require posters to be worth reading,” Volkov mutters .

Terry ignores him. “Right. As I was saying, Lando, Wendy, Angelique, and Reign—today we’ll be rehearsing the first pas de deux between Seigfried and Odette. We’ll be focusing on the characters’ emotions and connection.”

I swipe my palms on my tights, my stomach twisting in knots as I glance at Volkov, who’s watching me again.

“We’ll start with the leads.” Terry looks between us, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Positions?”

Reign moves behind me, his hand brushing lightly against my lower back as he takes his place. It’s just a casual touch, but I feel it everywhere.

“Eyes on each other,” Terry says. “You’re not just dancing. You’re communicating. Every movement needs to say something. Feel something. Ready?”

Volkov leans forward in his chair, a predator watching prey, and the music starts.

My arms rise slowly, trembling just enough to show the effort it takes.

Odette isn’t strong, not in this version.

She’s barely holding herself together. Everything she offers is fragile and haunted.

Already slipping through her own fingers.

Just like me .

Reign steps forward as I turn. His hands hover before they touch me—one at my waist, the other cradling my elbow.

I let myself lean into him, the weight of my body sagging slightly as if Odette is trusting him more than she should.

I let my head fall against his chest, chest rising and falling with effort.

When he lifts me, I don’t reach for the air—I collapse upward. My legs extend, but the fight is gone from them because this lift isn’t supposed to show power, it’s supposed to show surrender.

He lowers me gently, breath brushing my ear, and a shiver runs down my spine.

It shouldn’t make me feel this way. I should be letting the sorrow seep into my limbs and hollow me out.

But it’s impossible around him. The warmth of his breath lingers, curling low in my stomach and my chest tightens, awareness blooming between my thighs in a slow, traitorous pulse.

When he kneels and offers his hand, I take it, and the duet ends with me in his arms, forehead resting against his. Our chests rise and fall as the last note fades, and I don’t realize I’m trembling until I feel his hand press firmer against my back, grounding me.

Volkov leans back in his chair, arms crossed. For once, his expression is unreadable.

Finally, he grunts. “Hmph.”

Terry blinks. “Well?”

Volkov waves his pen. “Better. Much better.”

Reign’s grip loosens, but he doesn’t step away. I slowly pull back from him, my skin buzzing everywhere we touched.

Lando beams. “That was beautiful.”

But before I can respond, Wendy scoffs from across the studio. “Please,” she says, standing. “Anyone could do better than that. She barely moves. It’s not hard to look sad.”

The air in the room shifts and my spine stiffens, but Wendy doesn’t stop there.

“She’s not even trying. She’s got limp wrists and is constantly seeking pity points. If she wasn’t Reign’s little damage control project, she wouldn’t even be cast.”

I flinch, like she slapped me, my breath sticking in my chest.

Damage control project? What is she talking about?

Lando steps forward, jaw tight. “Wendy. That’s enough. ”

She ignores him. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking. We’re all walking on eggshells around her. God forbid, we critique her, right? Because if we do, she might cry, or quit, or?—”

“Wendy!” Lando snaps.

Still, she barrels forward, venom curling her lip. “She’s not even good. She’s fragile . And that’s not artistry, it’s dead weight.”

“Get out,” Reign says, voice low.

Wendy blinks. “What?” she says, laughing like she misheard him.

“I said get out.” He holds her gaze until her face twists in disbelief and fury, before her eyes snap to me, full of loathing.

“You don’t deserve him,” she spits. “You don’t deserve any of this. Everyone’s just pretending that you’re something special.”

The words hit harder than I expect, and I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until it shakes in my chest. Wendy turns on her heel and storms out, the studio doors slamming behind her and the silence hangs, heavy and brittle.

Terry clears his throat awkwardly. “I think… that’s enough practice for the day.”

Lando brushes my arm as he heads out, giving me an apologetic look. I nod once, not trusting my voice.

Reign stays behind, exhaling slowly before he finally speaks. “Up for another field trip?”

I look at him and force a smile. “Sure. Why not?”

He holds my gaze for a beat longer, like he knows I’m faking it, but he nods and leads the way.