The Triplet Alphas' Secret Mate

Chapter 172: The Dancer

Scarlett’s POV

​I walked up to a man who looked like he was in charge of the floor, my heart hammering against my ribs. "I’d like to be one of the dancers tonight," I said, pitching my voice lower.

​He looked me up and down, his eyes scanning my silhouette beneath the hoodie. "Can you dance?"

​"Yes," I replied, with a confidence I didn’t truly feel but needed to project.

​"Well, lucky me," he grunted, checking his watch. "One of the girls called in sick ten minutes ago, and the headliner is about to go on. Go to the back. There’s a bin of masks and outfits. Pick something and be on stage in five."

​I couldn’t believe it was that easy. I hurried to the changing room, the air thick with the smell of hairspray and cheap perfume. I stripped off my clothes, my hands shaking. Zoe, I called out to my wolf, I need you to go deep. Subdue yourself completely. He can’t sense a single drop of our power.

​I understand, Scarlett, she whispered, her presence fading into a tiny, cold spark at the back of my mind.

​I looked in the mirror after I finished changing. I had chosen a sheer, shimmering wrap that caught the light and a silver feathered mask that covered the top half of my face. I even wore a red wig...

​What I was doing was incredibly risky—Leonard was an Alpha, his senses were sharp—but I couldn’t help it. I had spent the afternoon in Leo’s arms, but the sight of Leonard sitting there, so broken and alone, had pulled at a string in my heart I thought had snapped long ago. I just wanted to touch him. Just once.

shifted to a heavy, pulsing beat. I was called out,

been a talent I had effortlessly, a way to move when words failed. I took to the pole, my body curving and swaying with a grace that made the men in

​Leonard.

wasn’t looking at the stage. He was staring into his glass, his shoulders slumped, his entire aura radiating a grief so heavy it felt like it was suffocating the air around his table. I danced and I danced, performing moves that were daring and fluid, praying to get his attention. I wanted him to look up. I wanted to see those sharp, intelligent eyes, even if they were filled

remained lost in his thoughts, a man

calling out to me, waving bills, but I ignored them all.

and cleared my throat, forcing my voice into a husky, breathless tone that sounded nothing like the

said instantly, his voice cold and

He slowly

moment our gazes met, my heart broke. His eyes weren’t just tired; they were bloodshot and raw. He looked like he was on the very edge of tears, his jaw tight as

between us turned electric, and for a terrifying second, I thought he

a small, teasing smile onto my lips. "A dance? It might help

mask, drifting down to the line of my throat. My heart raced. Damn... this was a bad idea. What was I thinking? Being this close to him, smelling the whiskey and the forest-scented

my voice wavering. "I see you are in a

leave, my chest aching with the need to just run back

​"Wait," he said.