Page 83 of Storm

My mouth drops open. They did all that while I slept. I must have really been out of it. I move over to the drawer and find a clean black tee that is clearly is Fox’s. I quickly pull it over my head and move to the hoodie. I pull it on, burying my nose in the collar as if his phantom scent is still there.

Rook watches me, something soft and tender in his expression. "Still fits you like a tent," he says, his voice warm with affection.

"Shut up," I retort. I roll up the sleeves, the familiar gesture transporting me back to simpler times. "Hurry up and get dressed. I want to explore."

I barely finish the words before Rook moves.

He grabs my hips and pulls me down onto the bed with a low growl that sends a shiver straight through me. I land on top of him, my knees straddling his hips, the heat of his bare skin burning through the thin fabric of the sleep shorts I’m still wearing.

"Rook!" I squeal, laughing as I try to wriggle free, but he flips us effortlessly, pinning me beneath him with a grin that makes my heart stutter.

"Mine," he murmurs, his forehead dropping to mine, his weight heavy and perfect over me.

His hands slide down my arms in a slow, claiming touch, his scent wrapping around me, thick and heady. For a second, I forget about everything except him. His body, his warmth, the way he feels so right.

"I love you, Storm," he says, his voice low and fierce. My chest squeezes painfully in the best way.

"I love you too," I whisper, my hands tugging him closer.

He kisses me, slow and deep, a sweet and lingering press of lips that feels like a gentle declaration of everything we've fought for.

When we part, Rook's eyes are dark with emotion, his thumbs tracing soft, absentminded circles on my cheekbones.

He leans in again, running his nose slowly down my throat, breathing me in.

I freeze, my heart hammering against my ribs. He can smell Reed on me. I know it. The scent mark Reed left is obvious to anyone with a nose, and my mind scrambles for what to say. How to explain.

But Rook doesn't stiffen. He doesn't pull away.

Instead, a low rumble vibrates through his chest as he nuzzles the other side of my neck and scent marks me himself, rubbing his cheek against my skin like he's laying claim. A deep, rich purr starts low in his throat, a sound I've never heard from him before, and it melts the last bit of fear inside me.

Warmth floods through me.

"You’re mine," he murmurs again, voice almost a growl.

Then he pulls back just enough to meet my gaze again, that same seriousness settling back over his features, not jealousy but something else.

"But we need to talk," he says, his thumb brushing slow, grounding circles over my hipbone.

"Talk about what?" I breathe, already dizzy from him.

"About staying," he says. "About running. About what you want."

His touch stays gentle, anchoring me, letting me know he's with me no matter what.

"I'll do whatever you want, Hurricane," he says steadily. "If you want to run, I’ll run with you. Take Frankie. Find somewhere safe." His voice rumbles low in his chest. "But I see the way the alphas look at you. Jonathan, Reed, even Alex. They’d do anything to keep you safe. Like you deserve. I can’t protect you like that out there. But here…"

He smiles softly.

"And I see how you look back," he adds, brushing a curl away from my face. "It’s okay, Storm. You deserve people who’ll fight for you. Protect you."

Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I force a laugh instead.

"Reed’s a grumpy asshole," I say, my voice shaking just a little.

Rook chuckles, a deep, rough sound that makes my stomach flip.

"So is Jonathan," I add, dragging my nails lightly over the back of his neck just to feel him shiver.