Page 122 of Storm
I shake my head. "My parents... they weren't capable of that kind of love. My mother played favorites, using her affection as a weapon to manipulate us. My fathers saw us only as extensions of themselves, investments to be molded into their image." I pause, the words difficult to voice even after all these years. "Jonathan got the worst of it. She would hug me while pushing him away, calling him needy, weak. It was cruel to both of us, in different ways."
Storm's hand comes up to cup my cheek, her touch gentle. "That explains a lot about you two," she says softly. "Why Jonathan keeps everyone at a distance. Why you're so careful with how you show affection."
I lean into her touch, something tight in my chest easing at her understanding. "I promised myself that if I ever had children, they would never doubt for a moment that they were loved. Completely, unconditionally, for exactly who they are."
"You'll be an amazing father," Storm says with such certainty that my heart squeezes in my chest.
"Do you want them?" I ask, unable to keep the hope from my voice. "Children, I mean."
She's quiet for a moment, considering. "I think I do," she says finally. "Not because it's expected of me as an omega, but because... I want to." Her eyes meet mine, clear and determined despite the heat haze. "I want to build a family with all of you. A real one."
Joy surges through me at her words. "You have time to decide about the protection," I tell her, though it's difficult to keep the excitement from my voice. "But not much, if you want it before your heat hits fully."
"I know," she says, a small smile playing at her lips. "I just need a little longer to think."
"Take the time you need," I assure her, though my heart races at the possibility—Storm carrying our child, perhaps even now from her encounters with Rook, Reed, or Fox.
She studies my face, then laughs softly. "You really want this, don't you? Kids running around the house, making messes, waking us up at all hours."
"More than anything," I admit freely. "A home full of laughter and chaos and love. Children growing up together, protected and cherished."
"It's a beautiful vision, one I also want." She murmurs, settling against my chest again.
My purr the only sound in the room, the afternoon sunlight painting the room gold. Storm's breathing grows deeper, more even, her body relaxing as she drifts toward sleep.
I hold her close, watching the light play across her wild curls, my thoughts drifting to the future she's considering. A future with children. Two loving omegas, a household of devoted alphas and a beta to guide them.
It's everything I've wanted, everything I promised myself when I was too young to understand why my mother's love hurt as much as it healed. A chance to break the cycle, to create something pure and good from the broken pieces of our pasts.
As Storm sleeps in my arms, I send up a silent prayer to whatever forces might be listening—let this be real. Let this be our future. Let us build something beautiful together, something that defies the cold, broken system we've all escaped.
Something worthy of the fierce, wild-hearted omega trusting enough to sleep in my arms.
Chapter34
Storm
"You're doing it wrong," Frankie calls up to me, laughter in his voice. "You're supposed to twist and then pull, not yank them straight off the branch."
I roll my eyes, though he can't see me from his position at the base of the apple tree. "They're coming off, aren't they? I don't see the problem."
The autumn air is crisp against my skin, the afternoon sun warm enough to keep the chill at bay. Elena mentioned the apple orchard on the east side of the property yesterday, and Frankie immediately suggested we pick some before they over-ripen. I jumped at the chance to do something normal, something that had nothing to do with designations or pack dynamics or the approaching heat.
Just me, Frankie, and a basket of apples. Simple. Uncomplicated.
"The stem is important," Frankie explains, holding up one of his perfectly picked apples with the stem intact. "It helps them stay fresh longer."
I make a show of dramatically twisting my next apple before pulling it free, the stem still attached. "Happy now, apple expert?"
He grins up at me, and something in my chest flutters at the sight. Frankie has always been handsome in his quiet way, but out here in the sunlight, with his cheeks flushed from the cool air and his eyes bright with happiness, he's breathtaking. His soft cinnamon scent rises to me on the breeze, as comforting as it is tempting.
"Very happy," he says, holding up the basket for me to drop it in. "I think we have enough now. Any more and we'll be making pies until winter."
I scan the branches around me, spotting one last perfect apple just out of reach. "One more," I declare, stretching up on my tiptoes on the branch I'm balancing on. My fingers brush the apple, not quite reaching it.
"Storm, be careful—" Frankie starts, but it's too late.
My foot slips, and for a terrifying moment I'm falling, the ground rushing up toward me. Then strong arms catch me, Frankie staggers slightly under my sudden weight but manages to keep us both upright. My heart pounds as I find myself pressed against his chest, his arms secure around me.
