Page 29 of Storm

His nostrils flare as he inhales my scent, no doubt picking up on my adrenaline and the undercurrent of dark chocolate.

For a moment, something flickers in his eyes—not just anger, but something deeper, more complex. Hurt, maybe? Betrayal? Whatever it is, it vanishes as quickly as it appeared, replaced by cold determination.

Before I can react, he moves with alpha speed I've never witnessed before, sweeping me off my feet and tossing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. The breath whooshes from my lungs as my stomach connects with his shoulder.

The theater spins in my vision as he turns. Through the disorientation, I catch one last glimpse of Harley, her eyes meeting mine across the distance in a moment of perfect clarity amidst the chaos. I wink over at her. He picks up his phone and calls someone.

“Meet me out back.” His words are clipped.

His shoulder digs into my stomach as he carries me through the back of the theater, his grip on my legs like iron. He scoops up my backpack as I continue to struggle, kicking and punching, but it's like hitting a brick wall. I really need him to let me go to make this work.

"Little Omega," he growls, pushing through an exit door into the cool night air.

I twist, trying to get my bearings. We're in an alley behind the theater. There is security there. Protesting beta-born alphas start yelling abuse at Jonathan. So close to Crescent Avenue. So close to Rook. I whimper.

But Jonathan isn't letting me down.

"No!" I whine, renewing my struggles. "Let me go, asshole.”

He shifts me slightly, adjusting his grip, but doesn't slow down.

As he approaches the car, the door swings open, revealing the other member of his pack. Reed Howard, his stormy eyes taking in the scene with what might be amusement.

"Jonathan, what the fuck?" Reed hisses out under his breath. Yeah, guess he didn’t expect the night to go this way. I sure as hell didn’t plan this. I need to get away from them and find Rook.

"Shut up and help me get her in," Jonathan snaps, his patience clearly at an end.

As Jonathan moves to deposit me in the car, I make one last desperate attempt, sinking my teeth into his shoulder without breaking skin. It won’t bond me to him, but maybe it will mess with his alpha instincts and he will loosen his hold on me. But then what? Run into a crowd of unbonded alphas? This isn't how it was supposed to go. This isn't part of the plan. Fuck, I forgot about the protesters in my plan. There was no way I could leave this theater without being recognized.

Jonathan lets out a pained growl but doesn't loosen his grip. Instead, he leans down, his mouth close to my ear, his voice a dangerous rumble that sends involuntary shivers down my spine.

"You want to play games, Storm?"

I'm shoved unceremoniously into the back seat of a sleek black car. Jonathan slides in beside me, his large body blocking any chance of escape. The door slamming shut behind us with a finality that makes my stomach drop.

Reed’s stormy blue eyes narrow in the rearview mirror at me as they move from Jonathan to me and back again. His face hardens into something dangerous.

"What the fuck did you do?" I hear him hiss at Jonathan.

"I didn't do shit, just drive," Jonathan snaps back, still keeping me restrained. Not that I’m struggling. There’s no point.

Reed's jaw clenches. "Our name wasn't supposed to be in that lottery," he growls.

"Someone put our name in the draw," Jonathan says through gritted teeth. "I think it was a setup. To give the last push to tip the uprising into a rebellion."

As the car pulls away from the theater, the reality of my situation hits me with crushing force. Oh fuck. I didn’t think. I should have known this would cause issues. All I wanted was a way to find Rook. Instead, I might have started a rebellion.

I chose Pack Kingsley.

And now I have to live with the consequences.

Chapter10

Reed

My grip tightens on the steering wheel. This is a mess. A complete fucking mess. The whole thing was televised live across Crescent City—millions watched Storm pull our pack's name from that barrel. There's no hiding from this, no denying it, no explaining it away.

"You never wanted her as your omega," I say, meeting Jonathan's eyes in the rear-view mirror. "So why the hell are we driving away with her instead of sorting this out?"