Page 52 of Storm
Fox leans into my touch, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of worry and resignation. The soft notes of honey and chamomile in his scent grow sharper with anxiety.
"I hate when you leave," he says quietly. "Especially to go back there." I press my forehead against his, breathing him in.
"I know. I hate it too." We're standing in the entryway of our hidden estate, morning light filtering through the tall windows. This place has been our sanctuary for four years—far from Crescent City, nestled deep in the mountains where no one would think to look for us. A place where Fox can exist without fear, where he doesn't have to hide what he is.
"You boys going to stand there all day saying goodbye, or is Alexander actually going to leave at some point?" Elena's voice breaks into our moment, warm with affection rather than impatience.
We turn to see her approaching from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Over the years, Elena Olsen has become more than just Fox's mother—she's become mine too, in all the ways that matter. She provides the warmth and care I never really got from my own mother.
"Just finishing up," I tell her with a smile. She shakes her head fondly.
"You said that twenty minutes ago." She steps forward and straightens the collar of my shirt, a motherly gesture that still catches me off guard sometimes. "You have everything you need?"
"I think so."
"Extra clothes? Your medication? That book you were reading?" I laugh, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders.
"Yes, yes, and yes. I'm only going for three days, not three months."
"And you'll call every night," Fox adds. It's not a question.
"Without fail," I promise, turning back to him. "As soon as I can get away from Jonathan and his drama."
Elena hands me a small container. "Muffins for the road. The chocolate chip ones you like." Something warm unfurls in my chest at the simple kindness.
"Thank you, Elena."
"And this," she says, pressing a small bundle wrapped in a soft cloth into my hand. "It's just herbs. For tea. Help you sleep in the city."
I know without asking that she's made her special blend, the one she started preparing after noticing how restless I become when I have to return to Crescent City. The one that somehow helps quiet the demons that the city awakens in me.
"I don't deserve you two," I say, only half-joking. Elena clicks her tongue disapprovingly.
"None of that talk. You're family. This is what family does." Family. A concept so simple for her, so complicated for me. The Kingsley’s were never a family. We were a dynasty, a legacy, a power structure. What I have here with Fox and Elena is something entirely different. Something real.
"Be careful," Fox says, his voice dropping lower. "Your fathers?—"
"I know," I cut him off gently.
"I'll handle them. I always do." Fox's expression remains troubled.
"This is different. With the omega?—"
"Storm," I supply. "Her name is Storm."
"With Storm," he corrects himself. "It changes things. They'll be watching more closely." He's right, of course.
Storm rigging the draw to choose my pack has brought unwanted attention to all of us. The fragile peace we've maintained, the careful distance I've established, the secret of Fox's existence—all of it is at risk now. "I'll be careful," I promise.
"And I'll be back before you know it." I lean in and kiss him, soft at first, then with a deepening urgency that speaks of all the things I can't put into words. The fear of leaving him, the dread of returning to that city, the promise of coming home. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his again.
"Be good while I'm gone," I murmur. Fox's lips quirk up into a small smirk.
"Where's the fun in that?" He teases me. I laugh and press one more quick kiss to his lips before stepping back.
"Fine. Be moderately bad. But stay safe."
"Always."
