Billionaire Alpha's 99 Deadly Games novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

At this announcement, the younger she wolf dancers erupted in excited squeals and whispers.

“Oh my God, Alpha Lucas Thornwood is coming here?”

“I heard he hasn’t attended a social event in months!”

“Do you think he’s looking for new talent to sponsor?”

The company scattered to their dressing rooms, frantically touching up makeup and adjusting costumes, each hoping to catch the eye of The Thornwood Pack’s most eligible widowed alpha.

Only Aria remained frozen in place, her mind racing with alarm.

Why would Lucas come backstage? Even during his most obsessive pursuit of her years ago, he had never once visited her behind the scenes–his beta had simply delivered roses or arranged town cars.

Her thoughts spiraled into darker territory. Was this somehow connected to the revenge plots he’d schemed with his friends? Had he somehow recognized her despite the mask? Was he planning some new humiliation as punishment for deceiving him with her false death?

Her fingernails dug painfully into her palms as fragmented memories of the ninety–eight “pranks” flashed through her mind.

“Aria,” Margaret’s concerned voice cut through her panic. “You’ve gone completely white.”

“I just-” she managed, her usual composure crumbling.

“You don’t look well at all. Perhaps you should return to the hotel before he arrives. I’ll make your excuses–some diplomatic nonsense about vocal rest affecting your breathing. Don’t worry about Alpha Thornwood–we’ve got plenty of alphas without him.”

Aria nodded gratefully, not trusting her voice. With a quick pivot, she headed for the stage door, not even pausing to remove her performance mask or change from her costume.

Just as she reached the exit corridor, approaching footsteps echoed from beyond the heavy velvet curtain, accompanied by the theater director’s sycophantic voice.

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Chapter 14

“Right this way, Alpha Thornwood. The company is absolutely thrilled you’ve joined us tonight. Your support of the arts is legendary.”

As the curtain began to part, Aria’s heart nearly stopped. She quickly ducked into a shadowed alcove used for quick costume changes, pressing herself against the wall as Lucas entered the backstage

area.

Lucas stepped into the crowded backstage space, immediately uncomfortable with the theatrical chaos. Female dancers in various stages of costume swarmed around him like designer–perfumed moths to a flame, voices overlapping as they introduced themselves.

“Alpha Thornwood, I danced the second variation-”

“-such an honor to meet you-”

“-would love to show you around The Thornwood Pack sometime-”

Their competing fragrances created a suffocating cloud of floral and vanilla notes that made him physically recoil. The artificial sweetness reminded him, by stark contrast, of Aria’s simple scent–just clean soap and occasionally a hint of jasmine when she’d splurge on her favorite lotion.

He endured their attention with practiced stoicism, his eyes methodically scanning the space. Something–someone–had drawn him here, and it wasn’t these eager young she–wolf with their obvious ambitions.

As he nodded mechanically at whatever the blonde in front of him was saying, a barely perceptible scent cut through the perfume fog–the faintest trace of jasmine and something uniquely familiar. His body recognized it before his mind could process why.

Lucas’s attention sharpened, his gaze sweeping the room with renewed focus until locking onto a shadowed alcove where a figure in a pink costume stood partially concealed.

“That would be your principal dancer, wouldn’t it?” he asked abruptly, cutting off the blonde mid–sentence.

With those words, he redirected every eye in the room toward the corner where Aria had tried to hide.

Finding herself suddenly illuminated by attention, she felt her pulse stutter, then race wildly. The artistic director, realizing Aria hadn’t managed to escape, shot her an apologetic glance before reluctantly motioning her forward.

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Chapter 14

Aria approached with the measured composure that years of performance had instilled in her, though her heart hammered so violently she feared it might be visible through her costume.

Lucas made no attempt to disguise his scrutiny. His eyes tracked methodically from her temple to her toes, lingering on specific details–the particular curve of her wrist, the precise length of her fingers, the slight asymmetry in her shoulders that he had once memorized while watching her sleep.

He searched desperately for confirmation, frustrated by the mask that still concealed the features he once knew better than his own. Each familiar element sent a jolt of recognition through him, yet without seeing her face, certainty remained just beyond reach.