Page 21 of Storm

Her eyes flicker to my split lip, hesitating. "But your mouth is all busted up."

I shrug. "Worth the pain."

Something shifts in her expression then, mischief replacing concern. "Well, if you insist on being a martyr..." She leans forward slowly, her breath warm against my face.

Her lips touch mine gently, careful of the split. I feel the familiar spark—the one I felt the first time we kissed under those high school bleachers, right before the security guard chased us. But this is different, softer. Her hand comes up to rest against my cheek, mindful of the bruises.

When she pulls back, there is a softness in her eyes that few people ever get to see. "Better?"

"Much," I say, my voice rougher than I intended. "Though I think I might need more treatment."

She laughs, shoving me lightly in the chest. "You're impossible."

"You love it."

"Maybe." She packs up her makeshift first aid kit, then settles beside me, her head resting against my shoulder as we watch the city lights come on below us. "So, three hundred, huh?"

"Three hundred," I confirm. "And I'm fighting again next weekend."

She is quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the back of my hand. "Just... be careful, okay? We can't get that apartment if you're dead."

I turn, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm not leaving you, Storm. Not ever. No matter what happens."

"Promise?" she whispers.

"I promise. You and me against the world, remember?"

She nods against my shoulder, and we sit in comfortable silence as darkness falls around us. Two foster kids dreaming of freedom in a world determined to put us in boxes.

I shakethe memory away as I unlock my apartment door. Five years. Five years of fighting and bleeding and saving every penny. Five years of holding onto that promise like it's the only thing keeping me breathing.

I burst through the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges in my rush. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely unlock my phone. When I finally manage to pull up the replay of the broadcast, I crank the volume as high as it will go.

"Now, before you all leave, we have the two beta-born omegas here who have been chosen for the next lottery. Their Choosing Day will be in two weeks. Since we have so many unclaimed omegas looking for their packs, we have sped up the process. It’s only fair we give them their Choosing Day sooner.” The announcer's voice booms from my phone's tiny speaker. Two weeks? Fuck. They're using them as a bandaid to try to quell the uprising. A little too late for that. It’s crazy out there. I haven't joined in the protests, only because I know soon, I’ll have my omega in my arms.

The camera pans to Storm, beautiful and defiant as I remember her.

"Storm," I whisper her name like a prayer, touching the screen with trembling fingers.

The announcer continues. “You'll be able to meet these omegas over the next week, giving you a chance to put your name into the lottery.”

The camera pans to the crowd of alphas in the theater, they are all looking around and talking among themselves. Also shocked at the change of events. The announcer continues like this is normal. It’s not.

“Harley likes to take walks in the gardens and enjoys watching the TV seriesFriendswith her omega friend Storm. Storm is?—”

Then Storm grabs the microphone from the announcer, and my heart stops.

"Just so you know, Harley is so much more than that." Her voice, clear and strong. "This girl is one of a kind. She’s caring, sweet, and has the mouth of a sailor. So, you better get used to the wordfuck, as she uses it a lot.” The camera zooms in on her face, capturing the fire in her gray eyes.

I laugh. Oh hell. She hasn’t changed at all. The fire still burns in her. The beta woman and the announcer are struggling to take the microphone from her, and I can't wipe the grin from my face. She might be small, but she’s strong.

She passes the microphone to the other omega, Harley, who accepts it as Storm keeps the announcer and the beta at bay. Harley laughs before starting to speak.

“Storm is just like her name. She will sweep you up and toss you around a bit. But it’s worth it, I promise. Thunder and lightning. Tornados and hurricanes. Nothing in your life will be the same once she’s a part of it. But you will be so grateful she is, because once you get to know her, you also get rainbows.”

The beta woman finally manages to wrestle the microphone away from Harley, but the damage is done. Storm is being dragged off the stage, but she's smiling, triumphant. The camera cuts away quickly. The announcer is trying to regain control of the situation, but it's too late.

Oh, Storm… myHurricane.