Page 28 of Storm

Just as I'm tucking the ticket back into its hiding place, I hear someone out in the hallway. I rush to my door, worried I’ve been caught out, but it's Harley.

Blueberries. Pancakes. The scent. It’s barely there, but shit, how? What? The grief that's haunted her for days has been replaced by something else. Hope and a secretive smile that she's trying and failing to hide as she looks at me.

I wink over at her and she giggles.Holy shit.

I close my door, leaning against it as pieces fall into place. Somehow, someway, Harley has found her blueberry pancakes alpha.

* * *

The theater is packed,every seat filled with alphas eager to see which lucky pack will win the omega lottery today. The air is thick with tension and competing alpha pheromones, making my head spin slightly as we're led backstage.

Harley stands beside me, dressed in jeans just like me. She's beaming and I just know her pack is here for her now. I’d been so worried about her. I knew if she couldn’t have her dream, that I was gonna tell her to run with me. I squeeze her hand, trying to offer what comfort I can.

Veronica bustles around us, making last-minute adjustments to our appearance. I'm wearing a gold top that shimmers with every movement, cut low in the back and jeans that hug my curves in a way that makes me feel powerful. If I'm going to cause a scene today, I might as well look damn good doing it.

"Remember your manners," Veronica hisses as the announcer's voice booms through the speakers, introducing the ceremony. "This is being broadcast live to the entire city."

Good. Let everyone see what's about to happen.

Harley goes first. I watch from the side of the stage as she walks out, the perfect picture of omega grace and beauty. The crowd murmurs appreciatively, alphas shifting forward in their seats for a better view.

The announcer makes a show of the lottery, explaining the process for anyone who might be watching for the first time. Harley stands beside the large barrel, her face serene as she reaches in, pretending to search through the tickets.

I hold my breath, my hand closing around my own ticket in the pocket of my jeans. I have no idea what name she'll pull. But I know it will have blueberry pancakes in there.

"Pack Bentley!" Harley announces, her voice carrying clearly through the theater.

A cheer goes up from the crowd as a group of alphas race down the aisles. They make their way to the stage, five of them in total, all good looking. The alpha in front is tall and lean, with dark hair and striking pale blue eyes.

As he reaches the stage, a familiar scent hits me—blueberry pancakes. My jaw drops. It's him. It's actually him.

She did it. She got her dream. Holy fuck.

Relief for Harley floods through me, followed immediately by worry for myself. If Jonathan doesn't suspect her of rigging the lottery, maybe my own plan is still safe. I push the thought away. I can't change now. I will have to pull a ticket regardless and if it’s not Jonathan’s pack, it will be one of the randoms I let in there. And then no chaos and no easy getaway.

“Storm,” Veronica hisses beside me and I can see the announcer staring at me. Veronica then storms out after Harley and her pack. Fuck, she would know it was rigged.Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breathe Storm. You can do this.

This is it. My moment.

I walk to the center of the stage, feeling hundreds of eyes tracking my every move. The announcer introduces me, and I tune him out, focusing instead on the barrel of tickets before me. I spin it when he says so. It goes round and round to the beat of my heart. It's like time’s standing still and I can't breathe as I reach in, making a show of swirling my hand through the tickets. Hoping that I don’t accidentally drop my ticket in there. I suck in a deep breath and put on my big smile. Then, confidently, I pull out the ticket I had palmed before I even stepped on stage and show it to the announcer.

"Pack Kingsley!" he announces, his voice ringing through the theater.

A shocked silence falls for a split second, followed by an uproar of confusion and anger. “Can't enter the lottery,” “but he runs the Omega House.” “It's against every rule of the system.” Are just some of the words the alphas are yelling out.

Alphas leap from their seats, shouting about corruption and rigged lotteries. Some push toward the stage, only held back by security. The announcer tries desperately to restore order, but it's too late. Chaos has erupted exactly as I planned.

I scan the crowd, looking for my opportunity to slip away in the confusion. This is my chance. I need to make it to the side exit, down the alley, and to Crescent Avenue, where Rook is waiting.

But before I can move, a large figure vaults onto the stage from the side. Jonathan. His face is a mask of cold fury, green eyes blazing as he stalks toward me. He grabs the microphone and looks out to the crowd.

“This may come as a shock to you all, but my pack and I are retiring as the alphas of the Omega House. We entered our name, hoping to find our own omega. And we have now found that with Storm.”

If he thinks that’s gonna stop the crowd, he was wrong. They curse and boo at him.

"Storm," he growls, low enough that only I can hear.

I back up a step, triumph and fear warring within me. "Jonathan?” I tilt my head to the side.