Page 12 of Storm
I trudge backto my room, Jonathan's tall figure, a shadow behind me. Every step feels like surrender, the weight of his ultimatum heavy on my shoulders. He doesn't touch me, doesn't need to—his presence alone is enough to ensure my compliance.
"My backpack," I say when we reach my door, my voice hollow. "It's still outside."
Jonathan's expression is unreadable in the dim hallway lighting. "I'll have it returned to you tomorrow." I hesitate.
"Go inside, Storm," he says with an almost defeated sigh that makes me pause. I look up, searching his face. "I’ll take care of Rook."
I step inside my room, closing the door softly behind me. For a moment, I stand with my back against the door, listening to Jonathan's retreating footsteps. When they finally fade, I slide down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.
"Damn it, Rook," I whisper into the darkness of my room.
"What have you done?"
Chapter4
Jonathan
Alex is pacing again, his footsteps creating a relentless rhythm across the floor—a soundtrack to his anxiety. The tension radiates from him, each step a testament to his unease. He's been like this since Fox was taken from us, his worry a tangible presence that fills the room. It reverberates inside me too, though I keep mine under tighter control.
Three years it's been. Three long, brutal years of not knowing where Fox is or if he's even still in Crescent City, and the silence is eating at us.
“We got here," I tell Alex, trying to break through his agitation. My words sound more like a plea than reassurance. "We did it." We're the youngest pack in Crescent City to run the Omega House, a testament to our determination. We’ll find him,” I insist.
We have to find him. Yet the uncertainty hangs thick in the air.
Alex stops pacing and finally looks at me, his eyes bright with frustration and an emotion I recognize all too well—desperation.
"What if we're wrong, Jonathan?" His voice wavers, a raw edge to it. "What if he’s not here? It’s been three years." There's a tremor beneath his words, the kind only I would notice as his twin. He’s always been the hopeful one, but even his optimism is wearing thin.
I shake my head, refusing to entertain the possibility. "We’re not wrong. We'll find him. He has to be here. We just need to look in the right places."
They’re not just going to let a male omega roam around with the other omegas. They are considered an abomination. A disgrace to the system. They can’t breed a new generation of omegas. But they can service elite alphas in rut. I’ve heard the whispers, even as a young boy. I know what they do with male omegas like Fox. And I just hope we’re not too late.
Alex nods, but his face is still clouded with doubt. "I need to check the files again. Maybe there's something we missed." His determination is fierce. A mirror of my own. He turns, the sound of his footsteps growing distant as he heads for the records room.
I watch him go. The sight stirring something in me that I usually bury deep. Alex's love for Fox is relentless, and I know he'd tear the city apart to find him. Fox was his best friend. Just like Reed is mine. We promised to make a pack. The four of us. Only Fox was a beta back then.
Alone now, I scrub a hand over my face, feeling the exhaustion settling in my bones. It's late, and I need to check the Omega House again for any secret doors that might lead us to where they’re hiding Fox before I can even think about sleep.
I turn to the monitors, expecting to see the same thing I have the past week that we have been here. Instead, a flash of movement catches my eye. I lean closer, and there she is—slipping through the rec room with her wild curls and defiant stride.
Storm.The little beta from the underground now turned omega. She turns to the camera and flips me off. Like she knows I’m watching her.
Never had a beta draw my attention like her. Reed was taken by her. I know only because he let her alpha leave before the fight was called. The bond we have is always closed off. He might be my packmate, but we don’t share more than we need. I offered help to her alpha, Rook, that night, only because I wanted to look at her a little longer. Figure out why I was drawn to her in that underground fight club. Maybe it was the hidden omega inside her that drew me to her.
Even here she’s defiant. The staff told us that the beta-born omegas are usually the most troublesome. There weren’t many here. Only a handful compared to the elite born omegas.
She’d not been taking her blockers or heat suppressants. I watched her the last two mornings as she took the pills from Veronica and did a show of swallowing them. Only when her back was turned a moment later, she’d spit out the two pills and slipped them under her pillow. Where she then proceeded to flip me off again. Having now found the camera in her room.
When I first saw it, I brought it to the attention of the doctor and beta staff. They told me she will feel the pain of her heat and won’t miss a day again after that. That’s the only way to teach the beta-born.
I step out into the hallway, the dim lighting casting shadows that stretch and bend along the walls as I make my way out towards the garden. My thoughts drift to Alex’s words. He’s right—it has been a long time. But I can’t let go of the belief that Fox is still here, hidden somewhere beneath the surface of this house, waiting for us to find him.
It’sthe waiting I can't stand, not knowing what state Fox will be in when we finally reach him. Not knowing if he even wants to see us after what our parents did, taking him away like that. I clench my fists, the frustration of it all threatening to tear me apart. We’re so close, the closest we’ve ever been, and yet it feels like he keeps slipping further and further away. The image of Fox as we knew him haunts me, and I’m terrified of how we will find him.
I slip out into the garden, the night air cool and laced with the scent of flowers and earth. She’s there like I knew she would be, waiting with a stance that defies everything around her. Storm. Her tense silhouette stands against the soft glow of the lights, and in that moment, I remember the raw suspicion etched into her eyes when I told her I’d take care of Rook. The way she'd looked at me with a disbelief so fierce, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. She doesn’t trust me. I never expected her to. But what she doesn’t realize is that I always keep my word, no matter the cost.
“Storm,” I call out, watching her closely as I approach. Her eyes are sharp, assessing, roaming over me. She cocks her hip, an act of defiance that speaks volumes.
