It took a lifetime to learn to trust again.
I stack the tarot deck again. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
He gives me a baleful look. “You didn’t.”
Of all people, of all men, I learned to trust Joshua North. He’s a self proclaimed bastard, an injured animal biting anyone who comes close. Auribus teneo lupum. I have this particular wolf by the ears, which means I’m going to get bitten—and I’m choosing not to let go. “I tried to be quiet, but you always hear me anyway.”
“I told you to wake me up when that happens.”
“What’s the point of both of us being awake?”
“The point is that you shouldn’t have to be afraid alone.”
My heart squeezes. “I hate that he can still affect me like this.”
As I say the words I’m not even sure whether I’m talking about Connor or my brother. Or my father. I hate that fear can still emerge when I’m sleeping, when I’m helpless to keep the dark images at bay.
“A bullet was too fucking quick. I want to kill him again.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. Not fast enough. A tear escapes down my cheek. “He wanted me to dance for him, and I could have just—I could have just done it, you know? I’ve danced for thousands of people. But I couldn’t do it. Not like that.”
A low growl from my wolf. “Of course not.”
“And I keep thinking… what if he broke me? What if I can’t dance for anyone? Not just on stage, but dancing someone else’s steps? That’s my job, but more than that, it’s what I’m good at, the only thing I’m good at. What if I’ve lost that?”
“Then you’ll dance for yourself.”
“The dance company—”
“That fuckface director doesn’t deserve you. No one does, actually, but that’s beside the point. You dance what you want, when you want to, and if anyone says otherwise, I’ll ride my fucking chariot over them.”
I have to laugh at that, despite the heavy weight of my nightmare, despite my serious worry about my future. There’s no doubt in my mind that Josh would fight any battle I want him to. If anything I’ll probably be holding him back. “You know, Mamere always said that dancing was no better than being a stripper.”
“Listen, your grandmother’s batshit crazy. And I’ll put up with her crystal ball and her incense and her random predictions, but I’m not going to put up with her saying anything about you. If she says that in front of me I’m going to have some words.”
Lightness suffuses my chest. “How do you do this to me, Joshua North? How do you make everything feel possible?”
He cups my cheek in a rough palm. That’s the only warning I have before he’s kissing me, his lips demanding entrance, his movements urgent. “Everything is possible,” he murmurs, his mouth against mine. “You forgive me. You love me. How can anything be impossible knowing that?”
That’s how I know I’ll dance again. Love is the hardest thing. Forgiveness. He’s right about that. If those things are possible, then everything is.
He bears me down on the carpet, muttering to himself about the stars and the moon. Something about a chariot as he pulls the clothes from my body. The fire dances heat across my bare skin. It’s nothing compared to the emerald fire in his eyes. I look down, unashamed in my nakedness. There’s nothing to be afraid of when he’s full of raw need. My legs open for him, a clasp for his muscled thighs. He pulls back to press himself into me. We’re combined in the most elemental way. We’re forged in fire in front of that hearth, as bright as the stars. We move together, ocean waves pulled by the moon, salt licking at the sand. In that moment of blinding heat, we find forever.
EPILOGUE
In the tarot deck, the World card depicts a woman wearing only a cloth, dancing inside a large laurel wreath. She looks behind her to the past, while her body moves toward the future.
Bethany
The lights flicker three times, meaning the show is about to begin.
Through the heavy velvet curtain I can hear the shuffling of expensive wool and silk as three hundred guests take their seats for opening night. They turn the pages of glossy programs that feature my photo in black and white.
“Nervous?” Marlena sparkles in a white costume with crystals.
She’s everything pale and shimmery tonight. There’s something elemental about dancing in a plain leotard, the way I did on the finale. This is our debut as a new dance company. Reporters from nineteen different outlets, both local and national, have press passes. We have full costumes and a gorgeous set designed by a husband and wife team of artists. The entire warehouse has been transformed into a night sky with dark netting and fairy lights. It’s like a grown up blanket fort.
“So nervous,” I confess. “My hands are shaking.”