Page 17 of Storm
I reach over and grab her knee. I want to give her comfort as much as my omega is screaming to scratch her eyes out. I would love to hug her and reassure her that everything will be alright. I’ll draw all attention away from her in that room if she wants. Perhaps it's her need to see her father and brother, or maybe it's the thought of losing that charming beta guard she's always with, Gage. She places her hand on mine, glancing over and nodding at me. I respond with a smile.
The car finally stops, pulling my focus from Harley and jarring me back into the overwhelming reality of where we are. Before I can even steel myself, the door swings open, taking me by surprise. And there, beaming down at me with that impossibly sweet smile, is Frankie. The sight of him nearly knocks the air from my lungs, and a thrill runs through me that I can't ignore. Dang. That beta guard does things to my insides. It’s crazy to think he can have this kind of effect on me, that his shy grin and warm eyes can make my heart skip. Each time I see him, he manages to unsettle me, like he’s short-circuiting every single instinct I have.
It's almost like he doesn't realize what kind of fire he plays with, how he draws me in with his awkward charm. I can’t help but react to him, and it scares the hell out of me. My omega hums, and I bite back a smile, trying to keep my composure.
His scent hits me next, the gentle notes of it teasing me. Compared to an alpha’s, a beta's scent is mild, but when it comes to Frankie, there’s nothing mild about how it affects me. Toasted marshmallows and cinnamon. The sweetness fills the car and wraps around my own chocolate scent. Frankie shouldn't smell this good. I shouldn’t want him the way I do. But damn, if it isn’t hard to fight it.
I wonder if he knows. If he can sense the way I react to him, or if he’s as oblivious as he is cute. My stomach flips as he reaches his hand out to me, a simple gesture that says more than I think he means it to, especially since none of the beta guards are allowed to touch us.
A flutter of butterflies twists inside me, and I take a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but this pull he has on me. It's not just his scent, either. It’s his entire presence, the way he blushes when I look at him, like he’s surprised someone like me would even bother. Like I’m something special. It makes me melty and giggly. Makes me want to forget that I'm supposed to be an omega, and he's just a beta.
I half-hope, half-dread that he's catching my scent the way I'm catching his. Is that why he’s flustered? Why he seems more awkward than usual? I can sense the spice toasting up at the edges, a subtle shift that tells me he’s nervous. And I realize, he is. He's nervous as hell.
I step outside of the car, Frankie’s hand anchoring me as I go. The gold dress I’ve been forced into swirls around my legs, making a damn spectacle of me like I’m some prize on display. Well, I guess I am.
I straighten and my heart pounds at the feeling of Frankie’s hand in mine. Then, suddenly, it’s as if reality crashes down all at once. Shouting. Screaming. The roar of loud alpha voices filling the street. Holy fuck. Alphas are protesting, a wave of them drowning out everything else. I spin around, my grip tightening desperately on Frankie’s hand. News cameras flash.
We’re surrounded. Guards have created a barricade with their bodies to shield us from the madness. There are so many uniforms—more than I’ve ever seen—all marked with the Omega House insignia. But not all of them are beta. Across the sea of faces, I spot new guards. Alpha guards. And behind them are a mass of beta-born alphas. I can’t make out what they’re saying, what they’re chanting so furiously. But a feeling creeps in, a sinking certainty. This is why we don’t watch the news. This is what they’re hiding from us.
“Come, girls!” Veronica’s voice cuts through the chaos as she practically barrels toward us, herded by two alphas who are clearing a path. Her arm gestures sharply, ushering us through the doors. The noise of the crowd fades, muffled as we enter. Inside, it’s quiet in comparison, and my heart races as I take in the surroundings and the scents in here. Rows and rows of seats line the theater, filled with alphas all facing a stage that is ready for Choosing Day. There’s no question why we’re here, what this place is meant for. We’re on display.
All eyes turn, locking onto us with a hunger that makes my skin prickle. The overwhelming scents set me on edge, but it’s nothing compared to the sudden emptiness when Frankie drops my hand. I hate the instant loss of his warmth. I’m about to reach for him again, desperate to hold on to something familiar in the flood of strangers, when I see it. Veronica is glaring at him, her eyes like daggers pinning him in place. I don’t want him to get in trouble.
Cameras are everywhere, and they’re trained on us. Oh, hell yeah. This is the real fucking deal. The exact moment they’ve made us watch over and over for the past four years in the Omega house, while telling us this is what we’re born to do. The cameraman closes in. They’re catching everything live. This means Rook will see it all. Everything we do here, every move we make. I hope with every part of me he’s watching. That he knows I haven’t given up.
“We’re on TV.” I whisper under my breath as I catch Harley’s eye. She looks like she might faint as she glances around.
“Girls, smile,” Veronica hisses from behind. “They’re announcing you as the next omegas. You might want to use those manners we taught you, so you can show all the alphas what good...”
The words come at me fast, but I’ve heard them all before. “Good omega.” Something I’ll never be. I grab onto Harley’s hand and give her a small squeeze as I grin.
It’s showtime.
I spin on my heels and wink over at Harley. I see the camera and the crew in front of me and I am gonna put on a show for them all. I strut my stuff as I wave to the camera, winking to all the viewers before I turn to the rows and rows of alphas sitting here, waiting to see if they’re the lucky winners of an omega.
I perfume hard, and they don’t miss it. I run my finger along some of their shoulders as I pass by. Winking and smiling at them. They all start to rush up, trying to get over each other to get closer to me as I make my way to the stage. I turn, barely holding back a smile as the scene unfolds around us.
Alphas out of their chairs and now rushing towards me. I can barely make out the outlines of them, a feral desperation in their movements as they push and shove each other in a frenzy and the guards are overwhelmed.
This is exactly what I wanted, a scene. But more than I expected.
Whoops.
Suddenly, a growl rips through the air, a fierce rumbling that commands attention. My heart thuds hard in my chest. A large hand wraps around my arm and pulls me up on stage.
The velvet curtain is rough against my legs as I stumble behind it. I spin and look up into those piercing green eyes, almost feral. I can tell he's furious. His jaw is clenched tight, and his scent hits me. It's darker, sharper, the black pepper overwhelming the smoky cedar.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jonathan snarls, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a rage that makes my skin prickle with goosebumps. His grip on my arm is firm, but not painful. I can feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of my dress.
"Putting on a show," I say, lifting my chin defiantly. "Isn't that what we're here for? To be paraded around like prizes?"
His nostrils flare as he takes in my unblocked scent. I watch his pupils dilate, the green of his irises almost completely consumed by black. His reaction gives me a sick sense of satisfaction.
"You have no idea what you've done," he growls, leaning closer. His scent envelopes me completely now, and my treacherous omega instincts respond to it. "Those alphas out there would tear each other apart to get to you."
"Good," I snap back. "Let them fight."
Jonathan's eyes narrow dangerously. "This isn't a game, Storm." I just raise my brow. He growls deep within his chest, and my body reacts to his. I haven’t taken my heat suppressants in a week, and I feel slick start to pool between my thighs.
