Page 81 of Storm
Reed grabs my wrist when I go to poke him again, his grip firm but careful, as if he's conscious of his strength. "You have no idea what you're playing with, Little Storm," he warns, his voice dropping to a whisper that only I can hear.
I step even closer, until we're almost chest to chest, glaring up at him. "Neither do you,Alpha."
For a moment, I think he might actually use his alpha bark on me. His jaw clenches, the muscle there twitching with tension, his chest rising and falling with each controlled breath. Then—to my complete shock—he grabs my waist with both hands and pulls me against him in one swift motion.
My hands fly up to brace against his chest, the bare skin warm beneath my palms. Before I can protest, he leans down and runs his nose along the column of my throat, from my collarbone to just below my ear, scent-marking me with a rumbling growl that vibrates through my entire body.
My omega instincts surge traitorously, responding to the alpha claiming with a flush of heat that spreads from my neck to my cheeks and down to my core. My scent turns sweeter, dark chocolate mingling with his saltwater in a combination that smells disturbinglyright.
His grip on my waist tightens for a heartbeat, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above my hip bones. I feel his breath against my neck, hot and uneven, his heart thundering beneath my palms. This close, I can see the individual lashes framing his stormy eyes, the slight stubble darkening his jaw, the pulse jumping at the base of his throat.
A startled sound from the doorway breaks the moment. We both turn to see Fox standing there, his eyes wide with disbelief, his hand frozen on the doorframe.
Reed releases me instantly, stepping back as if burned. His face, so expressive with fury just moments ago, shutters completely. Without another word, he stalks past Fox and out of the kitchen, his growl echoing down the hallway.
The silence he leaves behind is deafening.
"I..." I struggle to find words, my body still humming with the aftermath of Reed's scent-marking. My neck tingles where his nose traced my skin, and I resist the urge to touch the spot, to see if it feels different somehow. "Fox, I'm sorry. That was—I didn't mean to?—"
"Don't apologize," Fox interrupts, his expression shifting from surprise to something almost like amusement. "You've done nothing wrong."
I gesture helplessly at the doorway Reed just stormed through. "But they're your pack, your alphas. I'm just an interloper who shouldn't even be here."
Fox crosses the room and, to my surprise, takes my hands in his. His touch is gentle, his hazel eyes kind as they meet mine. "You have just as much right to be here as I do," he says firmly. "This pack needed a shake-up. Some new members." His gaze flicks to Frankie, then back to me, a small smile playing on his lips. "And I can't think of anyone better than you, Rook, and Frankie."
I stare at him, taken aback by his acceptance. "But Reed just?—"
"Reed needs someone to challenge him," Fox says with a shrug. "He's been locked in his own head for too long. You might be exactly what he needs, even if he doesn't know it yet."
As he speaks, I notice his gaze drifting to Frankie, appreciation evident in his eyes as he takes in the beta's tall frame and gentle features. Frankie blushes furiously under the attention, his ears turning bright red as he suddenly becomes very interested in arranging the silverware on the table.
A giggle escapes me at the obvious mutual interest, the tension of the previous moment dissolving into something lighter. Fox catches my eye and grins, a conspiratorial look that makes me like him even more.
"Well," Elena says, breaking her silence with a clap of her hands. "That was certainly an interesting start to the morning. How about we finish getting breakfast ready before the rest of the house wakes up? Fox, you can help me with the coffee."
As we move back to our tasks, I can't help but replay the moment with Reed in my mind. The possessive growl, the feeling of his hands on my waist, the heat in his eyes when he looked at me, the way my body responded without my permission...
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memory. It was nothing. Just alpha posturing and omega biology. It doesn't matter that his scent still lingers on my skin, or that part of me—a part I refuse to acknowledge—wants more.
What matters is finding a way out of this mess. For me, for Rook, for Frankie. For all of us trapped in a system that treats us like property instead of people.
And if Reed Howard gets in my way again, well… he'll learnexactlywhat kind of storm he's dealing with.
The kitchen gradually fills with the scent of coffee and bacon, erasing some of the lingering tension. Fox moves around his mother with practiced ease, their coordinated movements speaking of years of shared routines. It's nice to watch, this comfortable domesticity so different from the sterile environment of the Omega House.
"Should I go wake Rook?" I ask, suddenly realizing he's missing all of this. "He's probably still asleep."
"Let him rest," Elena advises. "It was a long night for all of you. Food will be here when he wakes up."
I nod, grateful for her understanding. Rook needs the sleep—needs this safety, however temporary it might be.
As I help finish preparing breakfast, I catch Frankie watching Fox with that same shy interest. Fox feels his gaze and looks up, their eyes meeting for a moment before both glance away quickly. I hide my smile behind my coffee mug. At least some good might come of this strange situation.
But underneath the momentary lightness, the weight of reality presses down. We're fugitives now, hiding from the powerful alphas in Crescent City. Jonathan's fathers won't stop looking for us, and I don’t think we can do anything about the rebellion brewing in the streets. Can’t put the genie back in the bottle.
Plus, there's the matter of Reed.
I rub absently at my neck, feeling the ghost of his touch, and try to convince myself it meant nothing.
