Page 56 of Storm
Storm's eyebrows shoot up, a flush spreading across her cheeks, but her eyes sparkle with something like amusement. "Careful, Kingsley. Your brother might not appreciate you flirting withhis omega."
"Ah, but you're not his omega, remember?" I counter with a playful smirk. "You just said so yourself."
She laughs despite herself. The sound lightening the atmosphere between us. Frankie watches our exchange with wide eyes, clearly unused to seeing anyone interact with Storm this way.
"Jonathan did mention you're more approachable," Frankie offers hesitantly.
"He said that?" I raise an eyebrow, genuinely surprised, still holding Storm's gaze a moment longer than strictly necessary.
"His exact words were 'Alex is nothing like me,'" Storm clarifies. "I took that as a compliment to you."
"As you should," I agree with a smile. "Jonathan and I may look alike, but we've always been very different."
“How so?” she asks, curiosity replacing some of the wariness in her eyes. I consider how to answer. How do I explain the fundamental differences between Jonathan and me without revealing too much? How do I describe growing up in the same house but living entirely different experiences?
"Jonathan was raised to be the heir," I say finally. "To carry on the Kingsley legacy, to uphold the family name, to be everything our fathers wanted. I was... not."
"The spare," Storm supplies, her voice softer than before.
"Something like that," I agree. "It meant different expectations, different pressures. Jonathan had to be perfect. I just had to stay out of the way."
"That sounds lonely," Frankie says quietly. I meet his gaze, surprised by his insight.
"It was. For both of us, in different ways." Storm watches this exchange with interest.
"So, why are you here now? After four months of being conveniently absent, you show up right when Jonathan needs you to play the united front for your fathers?" Her bluntness is refreshing, even if the question stings.
"That's about the size of it," I admit. "Jonathan called, said he needed me back. So here I am."
"Just like that?" she presses. "You drop everything and come running when he calls?"
"He's my brother," I say simply. "My twin. For better or worse, we're bound to each other." Something in my tone must convey the weight of those words, because she doesn't push further. Instead, she picks up the deck of cards, shuffling them with surprising skill.
"Well, since you're here," she says, "you might as well make yourself useful and lose to me at gin rummy." I can't help but laugh at her audacity.
"You're that confident?"
"I've beaten Frankie consistently for four years," she declares, shooting him a teasing glance. "I'm pretty sure I can handle you, Kingsley."
"We'll see about that," I say, accepting the challenge with a grin. "Deal me in."
As Storm deals the cards, I find myself relaxing for the first time since entering the city limits. Her fingers move deftly, with a confidence that's captivating to watch. I catch myself studying the delicate curve of her wrist, the way her wild curls fall across her face as she concentrates.
Whatever I expected to find here, it wasn't this vibrant, magnetic woman who makes me forget, if only for a moment, about all the dangers waiting just outside these walls. There's something about Storm that lights up the room, that makes even this cold penthouse feel alive.
Of course, I know better than to get comfortable. My fathers are watching. The public is waiting. Jonathan is planning. And somewhere in the shadows, Rook Holloway is searching for the omega he loves.
But for now, in this moment, I'll play cards with Storm and Frankie, let myself enjoy her intoxicating scent and quick wit, and pretend that the weight of the Kingsley name isn't pressing down on all of us.
And maybe, just maybe. I'll figure out a way to help her find the freedom we all deserve.
Chapter17
Storm
The smell of Chinese food fills the penthouse, boxes upon boxes of it spread across the dining table. My stomach growls loudly. I haven't eaten much all day, too busy playing cards with Alex and Frankie. I'd forgotten what it was like to have someone I could actually talk to, someone who didn't look at me like I was a problem.
Alexander came back from the bathroom, then Jonathan and Reed returned just as the sun was setting, arms laden with takeout bags. I hadn't expected the grumpy alphas to bring dinner home, let alone enough to feed a small army.
