Page 16 of Storm

“What about a movie first? How about?—”

“Stop.”

The word slices through the air like a whip, sharp and cold. I freeze mid-step. Shit. That voice isn’t beta. It’s deep, commanding—an alpha bark. My fists clench at my sides before I can stop them.

Harley gasps behind me, and I feel her fear, sharp like needles on my skin. Mine isn’t much better. I hate how easily my body reacts, like it’s wired to obey. My heart hammers in my chest, but I lift my chin a little higher, even as my scent betrays me.

“Turn,” the alpha growls again.

My feet move before I can stop them. I grit my teeth, hating how his power coils around my instincts like a leash. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so terrifying—how little it takes for them to remind us of who’s in charge.

“Look at me.” The words slice through the air, controlled and dangerous. I don’t move. I refuse.

“Look. At. Me.” Jonathan’s voice feels like a whip. The sheer force of his will surrounds me, and I know he can sense my resistance crumbling, like the pressure is some sort of game that only he gets to play. He waits, and the room feels too small, too full of his power. It chokes the air from my lungs, forcing my instincts to scream for submission.

I finally lift my eyes to meet his.

Green. Sharp. Intense.

His presence towers over me, almost physical in its weight, and I hate how I feel myself reel under it. His scent is deep and masculine, smoky cedarwood and black pepper pushes at my senses until my mouth dries up like a damn desert.

I don’t want to like it, but my omega instincts hum, singing a treacherous song. I want to slap myself for reacting, for letting him see even a flicker of whatever mess is stirring inside me. How quickly he reminds me I’m still tethered to this place, still unable to escape what I am. I hate this.I hate him.

“You will stop teasing the betas. You will both show respect. Do you understand?” His words are clipped, authoritative, like there’s no chance anyone in the room would dare to defy him. His eyes pierce into mine, waiting for a response.

I don’t give him the pleasure of a reply. And when neither of us speak he continues.

“You both will be coming today and be on your best behavior. It will be your Choosing Day in two weeks’ time.” He doesn’t leave room for questions. His voice cuts off any protest before it can leave my throat.

My stomach drops.

How in the hell can it be so soon? One omega a month is how it’s been for sixty years.

I’ll be seeing Rook in two weeks?

Chapter6

Storm

This morning with Jonathan has rattled me. I haven’t seen him in a month, and a full thirty fucking days without him feels like a blessing. He hardly ever comes down to the omega level. It’s beneath him. Literally. The alphas are stationed on the level above us.

He only shows his face when someone steps out of line, and I guess today my smart mouth guaranteed a personal visit. Last time I’d seen him was a few weeks back when the doctor couldn’t get me to take my scent blockers. I didn’t miss the way his nostrils flared, or the way his eyes darkened when he caught the scent of my arousal in my room.

I swear I saw the muscles in his jaw tense, fighting instinct, even if he’d never admit it. I watched as he glanced at the camera, a quick flicker of his gaze, then back to me. It’s the same song and dance we do every few months.

We’re not scent matches. Hell, there’s no way we could be. That kind of thing is so rare, whispers of fairytales for omegas who still believe in happily ever after. Just a damn myth to keep us dreaming of that one true love, or loves, if you got a whole pack of scent matches. Not that they would let us keep them. They would have to enter the lottery and be lucky enough to win.

But Jonathan’s scent doesn’t repel me the way I want it to. That’s almost worse. So damn frustrating. It creeps in and coils around my thoughts, embedding itself at every chance it gets. I’ve seen the way some of the other omegas scrunch their noses up, like it makes them sick. They can’t stand the smoke and spice. I’ve seen some of them gag and can’t get away fast enough. I almost envy those girls.

We’re in a black town car on our way to Dahlia’s Choosing day. And apparently, we’re to make a good impression. Well, I'll certainly make an impression. Jonathan didn’t force me to take my blockers and my scent is running wild. I want to make a stir. I want Rook to hear about me and know that I'm coming for him.

Two weeks and we’ll be together again.

I turn around to see Harley with her hand over her chest, looking pale. Damn. She doesn't have the same plan I do. She'll be matched with a pack, and that's that. No backup plan to find her alpha—the one she met at the diner. She told me all about him, how he smells like blueberry pancakes. Harley believes it was him that triggered her transition. Three days later, she perfumed as an omega.

She doesn't know about Rook. I feel guilty for keeping that secret from her, but I don't want anything to happen to him if Jonathan overheard. Even though he took him out of The Pit, it doesn't mean he'd be okay with me talking about escaping the alphas on Choosing Day to meet him.

So, I figured staying silent was the best option. I hate keeping secrets, especially from her. I've never had a female friend before Harley. She's tough yet incredibly sweet.