The changing room was buzzing with energy—performers rushing in and out, nerves and excitement hanging in the air like static. I sat in the corner, adjusting my shoes and trying to block out the noise. This was my moment, a chance to focus on something that was mine. Something normal.
But of course, normal wasn't in the cards for me.
The air shifted suddenly, a prickle running down my spine. I didn't even have to look up to know who it was.
"Really?" I muttered under my breath, not bothering to turn around.
"Miss me already?" Zarach's voice was smooth, laced with his usual sarcasm.
I glanced up, and there he was, leaning against the wall with that infuriating smirk, his dark wings half-unfurled and his arms crossed. He looked completely out of place among the racks of costumes and fluorescent lights, yet somehow he still owned the room.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped, keeping my voice low. "This is my audition, Zarach. Not a demon intervention."
He stepped forward, his boots clicking softly against the tile floor. "Your audition? You mean the one you're utterly unprepared for because you've been too busy dodging death and ignoring your power?"
I rolled my eyes, turning back to my shoes. "I'm prepared. And you don't get to barge in here and act like you care about my power all of a sudden."
He raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," I said, standing to face him, "that all you care about is me becoming stronger. You don't care about me. You care about what I can do. About what I might be." My voice cracked slightly, but I pushed on. "Do you even care that this is important to me? That this is my dream?"
For a moment, Zarach said nothing. His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his wings twitched slightly.
"You think I don't care?" His voice was quiet now, but there was an edge to it, a dangerous undertone that made my heart race. "You think I'd still be here if I didn't?"
I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. "You're here because I'm useful. That's all. If I wasn't—"
He was on me in an instant, closing the space between us until I was pressed against the counter behind me. His hand braced against the surface, his other at his side, his face inches from mine.
"You have no idea what I care about," he said, his voice low and intense.
My breath caught in my throat. The air between us was electric, crackling with tension. I opened my mouth to argue, to say something—anything—but the words wouldn't come.
"Say it again," he murmured, his dark eyes boring into mine. "Tell me I don't care about you."
I couldn't. The words stuck, caught in the tangle of emotions rising in my chest.
Zarach's gaze flicked to my lips for a fraction of a second before meeting my eyes again. His voice softened, barely above a whisper. "You're wrong, Athena."
And then he kissed me.
It wasn't soft or tentative—it was raw, intense, and completely overwhelming. My hands instinctively gripped the counter behind me, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. There was no audition, no demons, no visions—just him.
But reality came crashing back all too quickly.
"Athena!"
The sound of my name snapped me out of the moment, and I pulled back, breathing hard. One of the stage managers stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand, looking slightly annoyed.
"You're on in two minutes!"
"Right," I stammered, my voice shaky. "I'll be right there."
The stage manager nodded and disappeared, leaving me alone with Zarach again.
He stepped back, his expression unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes hadn't dimmed.
"I'll be watching," he said simply before disappearing in a shimmer of heat.
I stood there for a moment, my heart racing and my lips still tingling. Whatever just happened, it wasn't something I could process right now.
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my costume, pushed my hair back, and headed toward the stage. The stage lights were brilliant, cutting through the dim auditorium like spotlights in a dream. As I walked to the center of the stage, the polished wood floor cool beneath my bare feet, the world around me seemed to fall away. The murmurs of the crowd faded into the background, leaving just me, the stage, and the rhythm already pulsing in my chest. I took a steadying breath.
This was my moment.
The soft piano chords of Wings by Birdy began to play, delicate and ethereal. The first step came instinctively, my body melting into the music as though we were one. I moved slowly at first, my arms curving gracefully, fingers slicing through the air as I told the story of yearning and freedom.
I twirled in place, my feet pivoting with a lightness that made me feel as if I were barely touching the ground. The music swelled, and I swept into a broad lunge, my arms extending outward, mimicking the motion of wings unfurling. Each movement was fluid yet deliberate, a mixture of power and grace.
Then the beat picked up, and so did I.
With a sudden burst of energy, I leapt into the air, my body arching like a bird in flight before landing softly. The audience gasped audibly, but I didn't pause to savor it. My movements quickened, carrying me across the stage in a series of pirouettes and sharp turns, my hair whipping around me.
I threw myself into a high flip, twisting mid-air before landing seamlessly in a crouch. Rising smoothly, I transitioned into a series of side leaps, my arms outstretched like I was slicing through the very air itself. Every movement was a release, a surrender to the music and to everything I had been holding inside.
The stage seemed to shrink as I moved faster, my feet a blur, my body bending and curving with the ebb and flow of the song. The music reached its first crescendo, and I launched into a series of flips, each one higher and more intricate than the last. My body twisted and turned, defying gravity as though I truly had wings.
"Oh, lights go down, in the moment we're lost and found..."
The haunting melody carried me through a slower section, my movements softening, becoming more introspective. I swept one leg out in an arabesque, holding the pose for a heartbeat before sinking into a deep backbend. My fingers brushed the floor, the motion fluid and seamless, before I rolled up into a spin that sent my hair fanning out around me.
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The song swelled again, and so did I.
I sprinted toward the edge of the stage, my feet barely skimming the floor as I pushed into a handspring, followed by a flawless aerial cartwheel. The crowd's sharp intake of breath told me they were right there with me, caught in the moment, captivated.
The music grew more intense, and my movements mirrored its urgency. My feet carried me across the stage in a whirlwind of turns and leaps, the choreography demanding every ounce of focus and control I had. My arms swept wide, as if reaching for something—or someone—just out of my grasp.
As the final notes approached, I slowed, letting the emotions of the piece take over. My movements became smaller, more intimate, my arms wrapping around myself as I sank to the floor. The last note hung in the air as I rose slowly, extending one arm skyward as though reaching for the heavens.
The lights dimmed, and the auditorium fell silent. For one breathless moment, there was nothing but the echo of my heartbeat in my ears. Then, the crowd erupted into applause, the sound thunderous and overwhelming.
I blinked, my chest heaving, and let the sound wash over me. I'd done it.
As I bowed, my eyes instinctively scanned the crowd. Austin was on his feet, clapping so hard it looked like he might hurt himself. His grin stretched from ear to ear, his pride radiating like a beacon.
But my gaze kept moving, searching for something—someone. And there he was. Zarach. Standing in the shadows near the wings, his arms crossed, his ever-present scowl softened into something resembling approval. He didn't clap—of course not—but the way he watched me sent a thrill through my chest.
I couldn't help but smile.
The stage manager approached, her own smile wide. "Athena, that was stunning. The judges are blown away. Stay close—they'll want to speak with you soon."
Nodding, I stepped off the stage, my adrenaline still coursing through me. Austin intercepted me in the hallway, pulling me into a tight hug.
"You were amazing!" he exclaimed, his voice full of pride. "I mean, I knew you'd crush it, but that... that was something else. You owned that stage, Athena."
I laughed, hugging him back. "Thanks, Austin. That means a lot."
"Go cool off," he said, stepping back. "I'll be out here when you're done."
As I walked back toward the changing rooms, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. Zarach was gone, but the memory of his presence lingered. Somehow, that was enough.
After gathering my things and stuffing them into my duffel bag, I headed toward the audition results board, nerves buzzing under my skin. I wasn't sure if it was from the adrenaline of my performance or the lingering charge of that kiss with Zarach. His touch, his lips—ugh, why was I still thinking about it? He'd made it clear time and time again that training me, turning me into some kind of warrior, was his top priority.
I was halfway to the results board when the air around me shifted. A familiar, heat-laden presence pressed down on me, sending a shiver of anticipation and annoyance down my spine. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
"Can you not, Zarach?" I said, whirling around to face him. "I'm trying to see if I made callbacks. You could've waited, I don't know, two minutes?"
His dark eyes bored into mine, his expression as unreadable as ever. "This is more important."
I huffed, crossing my arms. "Really? More important than my life? You know, the life I'm trying to live despite everything going on?"
Zarach stepped closer, his sheer presence making me instinctively stand straighter. "You think I don't care about your life?" His voice was low, almost dangerous, but it lacked its usual edge.
I snorted. "I think all you care about is my powers. What I can do. How strong I'll become. You don't care about me."
Something flickered in his gaze—hurt, maybe? Anger? I couldn't tell. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice quieter now.
"Oh, don't I?" I threw back, gesturing at him. "You're here to order me to train again, right? To put my life on hold again because there's always another demon, another threat, another reason why I can't have a normal life?"
"Normal life?" Zarach stepped closer, his voice rising slightly. "There's nothing normal about you, Athena. You know that. If you don't train, if you don't prepare, the next time someone like Beleth shows up, you won't survive."
His words hit like a punch to the chest. "I'm not just some weapon, Zarach. I'm a person. I have dreams and goals—"
"And I know that!" His voice cracked slightly, surprising both of us. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You think I don't see that? You think I don't... care?"
His words hung between us, heavy and raw. I stared at him, caught off guard. For the first time, his mask of gruff indifference slipped, and I could see the frustration, the worry, and something else lurking beneath the surface.
Before I could respond, Zarach closed the distance between us in one stride. His hand cupped my face, his calloused thumb brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched as his eyes searched mine, dark and intense, pulling me in.
"You matter more than you realize," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
I didn't have time to process his words before his lips were on mine. This wasn't like the last time—it wasn't impulsive or hurried. It was slow, deliberate, and full of something I couldn't quite name. His warmth seeped into me, chasing away every doubt and fear, if only for a moment.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and his breathing was slightly uneven. "I care, Athena. More than I should."
I stared at him, my heart hammering in my chest. "Then stop acting like I'm just your responsibility."
Zarach closed his eyes for a moment, as if steadying himself, before stepping back. The warmth between us was replaced with a cool detachment, though I could see the conflict still lingering in his gaze.
"I won't always be here," he said finally, his voice heavy. "That's why you need to be ready. To protect yourself."
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the ache in my chest. "Why are you even telling me this now? What aren't you saying?"
He hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "I'm not staying tonight. Marax will train you instead. I'm needed in Hell—new demons to handle."
The mention of Marax was enough to break some of the tension. "Marax?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're leaving me with him again? Do you want me to get nothing done?"
A ghost of a smile tugged at Zarach's lips. "He may joke, but he's capable. Don't let him distract you."
"Easier said than done," I muttered, feeling a mix of frustration and longing as he turned to leave.
Before he vanished, he looked over his shoulder, his expression softer than I'd ever seen it. "Don't forget—your life, your dreams, they matter. But so does surviving to see them through."
And just like that, he was gone. As I stood there, staring at the spot where Zarach had disappeared, my emotions were a chaotic mess. My heart still raced from the kiss, his words echoing in my mind. I care, more than I should. The weight of his confession settled in my chest, warm and unsettling all at once.
And then there was Marax. He was a whirlwind of charm and chaos, his presence pulling me in just as strongly but in a completely different way. Where Zarach was all structure and control, Marax was unpredictable and wild. Both of them stirred feelings in me that I didn't entirely understand—or want to admit.
How was this happening? How could I feel so much for two people I'd known for such a short time? It didn't make sense, but my heart didn't seem to care.
I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. There wasn't time to unpack my emotions, not with everything going on. Besides, there was no way this could end well. Zarach and Marax were demons—immortal, otherworldly beings with their own agendas. I was just a human, stumbling through this mess and trying to keep my head above water.
I forced myself to focus on something else, anything else. I still had the results to check, and with a deep breath, I made my way to the results board. A small crowd of dancers was gathered around it, their nervous energy practically contagious.
As I approached, I scanned the list quickly, my stomach flipping when I saw my name: Athena Walsh—Couple Auditions.
A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a surge of excitement. I'd done it. I'd made it through. This was my chance to prove myself, to keep moving forward with my dream, even with everything else going on.
But my excitement was short-lived. My eyes trailed over the list to see who I'd been paired with, and the breath caught in my throat.
Keller Matthews.
No. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Out of all the people, why did it have to be him?
"Athena?"
I turned to see Austin weaving through the crowd toward me, his brows furrowed. He must've seen my reaction because his expression quickly shifted to concern. "What's wrong?"
I gestured to the list, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm paired with Keller."
Austin's face darkened instantly. His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.
"I know," I said quickly, trying to calm him down before he caused a scene. "I didn't choose this. It's just how they paired us."
"That doesn't matter." Austin's voice was rising now, drawing a few glances from nearby dancers. "You shouldn't have to deal with him after what he did to you."
"Keep your voice down," I hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him aside.
His eyes blazed with anger, the protective big-brother mode I knew all too well kicking in. "Athena, this isn't okay. He treated you like garbage. He doesn't deserve to be anywhere near you, let alone dancing with you."
"I know that," I said, my own frustration bubbling to the surface. "But I can't exactly tell them to change the pairing. This is my shot, Austin. I can't blow it because of him."
Austin shook his head, his expression torn between anger and worry. "I don't like this. Not one bit."
"I don't like it either," I admitted. "But I'll handle it. I'm not the same person I was when we dated. I can deal with Keller."
Austin didn't look convinced. "If he so much as looks at you wrong, I'm stepping in."
I couldn't help but smile a little at his protectiveness, even if it was suffocating sometimes. "I can handle myself, okay? Just... trust me on this."
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But I'm staying close. I don't care if he sees me glaring at him from the crowd."
"Noted." I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me.
As much as I hated the idea of being around Keller again, I had to push through. This audition was too important to let my past hold me back.
Still, as I made my way to the dressing room to prepare, I couldn't shake the knot in my stomach. Keller Matthews had been a part of my life I'd hoped to leave behind. Now, he was back, and I wasn't sure I was ready to face him again.
I pushed open the doors of the building, stepping out into the crisp air. The excitement of making it through was quickly dampened by the reality of being paired with Keller. I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn't see him standing there. Almost.
I froze for a moment, dread settling in my stomach as my eyes landed on him. He was leaning casually against the side of the building, his arms crossed and a smug smirk plastered on his face. Same cocky attitude, same perfectly styled hair, and those eyes that once made me melt but now just made my skin crawl.
"Fancy seeing you here, Athena," Keller drawled, pushing off the wall and walking toward me.
I clenched my jaw, steeling myself. "Keller," I said flatly, trying to walk past him.
But of course, he wasn't about to let me go that easily. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "So, I guess you've seen the list."
I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. "Yeah. I saw it."
He grinned, tilting his head as he looked me up and down. "Partners again, huh? Just like old times. Who would've thought?"
"I'm sure you're thrilled," I said dryly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
"Thrilled?" He laughed softly, the sound low and infuriatingly confident. "Oh, I'm more than thrilled, Athena. Dancing that close with you again? The universe must really like me."
I rolled my eyes, stepping to the side to move around him, but he sidestepped with me, his grin widening.
"You're not still mad at me, are you?" he asked, his tone mock-innocent.
"Mad? No." I forced a tight smile. "I've got better things to focus on than ancient history."
"Ouch." He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Ancient history? Is that what we are now?"
"We were nothing, Keller," I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "Just like this partnership will be. Strictly professional."
"Professional," he repeated, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Sure. But come on, Athena. Don't tell me you've forgotten all the fun we used to have. That... spark."
I felt my face heat, but not for the reasons he was hoping. "The only spark I remember is the one where I realized you were a manipulative jerk."
Keller laughed, shaking his head. "Feisty as ever. God, I missed that about you. You know, we really were good together—on and off the dance floor. Maybe we can rekindle some of that magic this weekend."
I stared at him, equal parts furio