Page 51 of Unbonded (Pack’s Companion #3)

I’m not sure why Dash sounds so surprised, but he bounds off the stage, a daring leap that probably has his director in fits.

Our box is one level up, so when he crosses beneath us, he disappears from sight, and Lachlan jumps out of his seat to open the door.

A few moments later, Dash is striding into the box in gray tights and a black vest, his hair pulled back into a warrior’s topknot.

He’s wearing stage makeup, gold shimmer on his eyelids and cheekbones, and his plump mouth red and inviting.

The arousal that was already in the air thickens as we move to greet him, his alphas purring as he arches his neck in invitation.

But his eyes are roving over my dress as he exclaims, “God, woman! Have some consideration for my ballet belt.”

I grin as he adjusts the front of his tights, his alphas’ purrs kicking up a notch. Lachlan is smirking, but I can see the adoration in his eyes as he brushes a hand over Dash’s shoulder. “How are you feeling, other than cramped in your nether regions?”

Dash snorts and melts into his touch. “Excited. Happy. Nervous, but in a good way.” He looks around at us, all his confidence giving way to an adorable softness. “I’m really glad you’re all here.”

“We’re so proud of you, mijn liefje,” Corbus says as he carefully nuzzles his bite mark “We won’t be able to take our eyes off you.”

“Ditto,” he murmurs, giving me another appreciative look. “If it gets a little crazy backstage after the show, just head to the party and enjoy yourselves. I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Someone hisses at him from the edge of the curtain, and he blows us kisses as he dashes back to the stage. There are even more eyes on us as we settle into our seats, and Lachlan squeezes my hand as the lights start to dim. “How surreal is it that we get to go home with that man?”

“As surreal as it feels to be sitting here holding Lachlan Cook’s hand,” I reply, kissing his knuckles. “But at the same time, it feels kind of inevitable, so I’m just going to soak it up and enjoy it.”

“Me too,” he whispers, and then we’re swept up in the most entrancing performance I’ve ever seen.

For two hours, Dash and the other dancers propel us away to a dystopian world ravaged by war and hardship, where love has about as much chance of flourishing as a flower in a snowstorm.

Despite the undertones of heartbreak, Dash’s every movement is as fluid as water, while his alpha lover is the epitome of the strong, tortured commander.

They circle each other, two dancers in their prime, making even the most challenging sequences and lifts look effortless.

The orchestra swells and falls around us, teasing, haunting, the lovers coming together in a heart-pounding pas de deux that has some people rising from their seats.

But it all comes to a tragic, beautiful end, and tears pour down my cheeks as Dash performs his final dance over the body of his fallen lover.

As for the rest of the audience, they sit in stunned silence as the curtain drops, only to surge to their feet with a roar of applause.

“Okay,” I say, watching through watery eyes as Dash comes out to take multiple ovations, his gaze on our box as he throws kisses our way, “this is all completely surreal.”

Lachlan scrubs his own damp cheeks. “Damn. Can we please change that ending? I was kinda hoping love would conquer all.”

My heart, already tender from the tragic performance, gives a raw throb as I look at the man beside me.

It’s been one of the hardest years of my life, but reconnecting with Lachlan overshadows all the misery by a mile.

“I think it does, at least when it comes to us.” When he lifts me to my feet, I press as close to him as I can in polite company, wrapping my arms around his snug waist. “And now we get to go kiss that heartbroken soldier better.”

But we barely make it out of the box before well-wishers are crowding around our alphas, gushing compliments about their new mate.

They answer politely, but eventually Bram has to use his imposing presence to push our way through the throng.

We take a private staircase to the function room where they're holding the party, and I break away when we pass the sign for the bathroom. “I just need to go freshen up.”

We agree to meet at the bar, while I go and attempt to repair the ravages of a Russian tragedy on my makeup.

To my relief, Bernadette’s products are holding up well, so after a quick swipe of lipstick and blusher, I’m stepping out of the bathroom, only to come face-to-face with Lee - or at least some version of him.

I’m shocked by how thin and pale he looks in his expensive tux, as if all his vitality has been drained out of him until he’s a husk of his former self.

Probably at the hands of a red-haired succubus.

“Kate!” He grabs my arm when I try to step past him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Send me an email, Lee.”

I try to shake him off, but he backs me into a small alcove, his pale face looming over mine. Up close, his eyes are bloodshot, and his once comforting cloves-and-ginger scent hits me like a punch to the gut. “Get out of my way, Lee!”

He just shakes his head and plants his arm on the wall, caging me into the corner. “I heard you got a loan from your boss to finish the house. When you sell it, I need you to hand over my share.”

Hand over his share?

Is this asshole for real?

“What the fuck, Lee? That’s the first thing you have to say to me in months ? How about ‘sorry for leaving you in the lurch with all my debts, Kate’?”

His face hardens, his skin waxy even in the dim lighting. “I need my return on my investment.”

“Why?” I glare at him, watching the dark bags under his eyes twitch. “You’re bonded into one of the wealthiest packs in the city.”

“Yeah, but not as wealthy as your boss,” he mutters, casting a hunted look over his shoulder. “Look, I have some debts, okay? They’re not the kind of thing I can take to Suzanna.”

“What happened to Suze? ” I snark, earning a narrow-eyed glare. I give it back with interest, crossing my arms across my chest. “I seriously don’t care about your problems, Lee. But if you want what’s left over after the sale, you can talk to Bram Webber. His number is in the phonebook.”

I’m sure that it will be a far more painful conversation than just coming clean to his mate, but deception is second nature to Lee.

“Are you fucking him?” His lip curls, his eyes settling on the scar on my neck.

“Newsflash: the Janssen pack has just bonded the star of the show. So, what does that make you? Their piece on the side? Their pack’s companion?

” He must catch my slight flinch because he gives a horrible, grating laugh.

“Oh, shit… Really, Kate? I thought you had more respect, but I guess you always were a bit of a doormat.”

I stare at him, more disgusted than hurt.

This is the Lee I refused to see all those years.

Cold eyed and cruel tongued, like he has the right to tear others down.

Maybe I was a doormat for not confronting him years ago, but he doesn’t hold any power over me anymore.

“Fuck you, Lee. You’re the one the LaGrange pack are wiping their feet on.

The only reason she wanted you is because she saw how happy I was.

Or maybe she just decided to add another nasty little narcissist to her nest.”

Lee’s nostrils flare, his scent sour in the air. “Watch your fucking mouth, unbonded …”

Lee is too busy glaring at me to notice Lachlan coming up behind him. His face is a picture of worry until he realizes who has me boxed in the corner, and then he grabs Lee’s shoulder, almost jerking him off his feet. “What the fuck is going on here?”

I use the opportunity to slip out of the alcove and step behind him, tugging on the corner of his jacket. “It’s okay, Lachlan. We’re done here.”

In every way. And I don’t feel even a glimmer of sadness. All this encounter has shown me is that Lee did me a favor by walking out.

But my ex is looking between us with narrowed eyes. “Jesus! You’re fucking him as well? My best friend?”

I’d laugh at the accusation if Lachlan didn’t give a growl worthy of an uber. “Assholes like you don’t have friends, Morrison. And if you touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hands.”

There’s nothing but grim resolve in Lachlan’s voice, but Lee is too caught up in his own bullshit to heed the warning.

I can almost see the venom seeping out of him as he looks up at Lachlan – the superior man in every way.

“You’re pathetic, you know that, Cookie?

I bet you were just drooling to shoot your shot.

As soon as I dumped her, you probably came running to lap up my sloppy seconds. ”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Lachlan’s arm snaps forward, his fist slamming into the center of Lee’s sneering face.

He was always ugly when he was running someone down, but there’s something almost beautiful about the crunch of his nose as he stumbles back and slumps against the wall.

My only concern is for Lachlan’s knuckles as I draw him back and inspect his hand.

Lee’s wails, however, can probably be heard all the way out on Long Island, so it’s not surprising that he draws a crowd.

First to arrive is his omega, Suzanna’s shocked gaze taking in the sight of her mate slumped in the corner.

She’s flanked by her blank-faced mates, although none of them make any move to lift Lee off the floor.

“What the hell is happening here?” Suzanna demands, glaring in my direction.

Lachlan dusts his hands off like they’re not spotted with Lee’s blood. “College reunion. Lee just needed a refresher in party etiquette.”