Page 54 of Storm
"Fair enough," I concede, moving toward the kitchen. "Water it is, then."
I fetch three glasses of water, giving myself a moment to assess the situation. They're both on edge, but not in the way I expected. There's tension, yes, but it's not the hostility I anticipated from Storm or the fear I expected from the beta. Something else is at play here.
When I return, they've both taken seats again, though now on opposite ends of the couch rather than side by side.Interesting.I hand them each a glass and take a seat across from them.
"So," I say casually, "I hear you've had quite the introduction to Pack Kingsley." Storm snorts.
"That's one way to put it."
"Yeah, being kidnapped and locked in a luxury prison tends to make a bad first impression," I say dryly. Her eyes widen slightly, clearly not expecting me to acknowledge the reality of her situation.
"You admit it's a prison?" I shrug.
"Let's call it what it is. You didn't want to be here. You'd rather be with your alpha, Rook, right?" She glances at Frankie, then back to me, wariness in her gaze.
"Is this a trick?"
"No trick," I assure her. "Just trying to understand the situation better."
She studies me for a long moment, then seems to make a decision.
"Yes. I'd rather be with Rook. I was planning to slip away in the chaos, meet Rook, and disappear."
"But Jonathan threw you over his shoulder and ruined your grand escape," I finish for her.
"Exactly," she says, leaning forward slightly. "So, if you understand all that, why not just let me go? Release me, say it was a mistake, and we all move on with our lives."
I wish it were that simple. I really do. But nothing involving the Kingsley name is ever simple.
"Because it doesn't work that way," I explain gently. "It was public, in front of the entire city. If he releases you now, it makes him look weak. Makes our whole pack look weak."
"So this is about pride?" she challenges. "Partly," I admit. "But it's also about power. About maintaining the structure that keeps all of this—" I gesture around us "—in place. The Kingsley name carries weight. It comes with expectations, responsibilities."
"Burdens," she suggests.
"Those too," I agree, surprising her again.
"Look, I'm not saying it's fair. Hell, I'm not even saying I agree with it. But that's the reality we're dealing with." She falls silent, processing my words. Frankie watches her with a mixture of concern and something else—something that makes me curious about the nature of their relationship.
"Your brother's an asshole," Storm says finally. I can't help but laugh.
"He can be, yes."
"And Reed's not much better."
"Reed's..." I search for the right words. "Reed's complicated. He's had a rough go of it. But he's loyal to a fault."
"To Jonathan," she clarifies.
"To all of us," I correct. "Pack is pack." She scoffs at that, rolling her eyes.
"Right. The sacred bond of pack. How could I forget?"
"You don't believe in it?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"I believe in people, not designations," she says firmly. "I believe in choosing who you want to be with, not being forced into it because of biology or tradition or some bullshit lottery."
God, no wonder she's driving Jonathan crazy. She's everything he's been taught to control, to suppress, to keep in check. She's fire where he's ice, chaos where he's order. And yet, there's something refreshing about her honesty, her refusal to play by the rules.
