Chapter 4 The Storm Beneath Her Skin

• Kieran’s POV
• Power tastes like blood.
• I drop Alex’s lifeless body and let it thud to the floor like the trash he is. Whatever title he once held is gone—along with his relevance.
• The pack is mine now.
• The air in the conference room is heavy, thick with fear and silence. I give the cowards five minutes to sign the transfer papers. Just five. That’s all the tolerance I have for groveling and bureaucratic nonsense.
• By the fourth minute, my patience fractures.
• Lucien gives me a warning look. Damon smirks, already knowing I’m about to lose it. I push back from the table, the chair screeching across the floor, and leave without a word.
• I tell myself I’m checking on logistics. Maybe looking for loose ends.
• But that’s a lie.
• I’m looking for her.
• The Omega.
• The one with silver hair and haunted eyes I can’t get out of my head.
• I find her in the kitchen—alone. Her hands tremble slightly as she wipes down the already-clean counter, like she needs the motion to distract herself from something darker. She doesn’t know I’m watching her. Yet.
• Ragnar prowls beneath my skin. Touch her, he growls. She’s ours.
• Then—
• “…the last thing we need is to be indebted to Midnight Moon.”
• Alex.
• My vision narrows. I track the sound of his voice, fury already curling in my gut like a lit fuse.
• “Especially when there are things we need to keep hidden.”
• I move silently, steps like a predator in the dark.
• “I didn’t kill the Alpha and his family just to hand it over to some Alpha King.”
• Ah. There it is.
• I don’t think—I move.
• I step into the hallway, and before Alex can turn, my hand is around his throat. He gasps, chokes, claws at me—but I don’t give him the chance to beg.
• With a vicious twist—snap.
• His spine breaks like a twig. His body hits the floor, limp and twitching.
• His mate screams. I don’t flinch.
• But then—
• The pull.
• It slams into me like a force of nature. I whip my head back toward the kitchen.
• She’s glowing.
• Not metaphorically—literally.
• Silver hair lit like moonfire, blue eyes like twin galaxies, body trembling but radiant with something raw and ancient.
• Power.
• Uncontrolled. Untamed.
• Her lips part. “What’s… happening to me?”
• Ragnar loses it. Mate. She’s the one. Touch her. Claim her. Calm her.
• I grit my teeth, forcing him back with effort.
• Behind me, Damon and Lucien burst into the kitchen, stopping in their tracks.
• “What the fuck—?” Damon says.
• Lucien takes a cautious step forward. “She’s about to blow.”
• And then she does.
• A wave of energy explodes from her body like a shockwave.
• We all hit the walls. Hard. The ceiling cracks, dust raining down as shelves crash to the ground.
• When the world stills, I drag myself up. My ribs ache. Blood drips from my brow.
• She’s collapsed. Unconscious. Pale. Her body trembling like it can’t hold what’s inside it.
• Lucien crouches beside her. “That’s not omega power,” he mutters.
• “No,” I rasp, staring down at her. “That’s something else.”
• I step toward her, then stop. My hands twitch with the need to lift her, to shield her from everything—including myself.
• But I don’t move. I don’t trust myself near her right now.
• The silence is shattered by a shrill, venomous voice.
• “Omeeeeeegaaaa!”
• Lily.
• She storms in, red-faced and wild-eyed, taking in the wreckage—her mate’s body, the cracked walls, the girl on the floor. Her fury boils over, and she charges, hand raised.
• Not a chance.
• I catch her wrist midair, wrenching it behind her back until she screams.
• “You’ll address her properly,” I snarl in her ear. “Or you won’t speak again.”
• She trembles. I feel the exact moment she realizes everything has changed.
• “This pack is under my command now. You’ll all relocate to Midnight Moon. You’ll be trained for the war that’s coming.”
• She sobs. “Please. Can I bury my mate?”
• “Mate?” I laugh coldly. “He wasn’t a mate. He was a murderer, a traitor, and a coward. He’ll rot where he fell.”
• I nod to Damon. “Get her out. Have her sign the transfer. I want the bus here in thirty.”
• “And the corpse?” Damon asks dryly.
• “Leave it. Burn this place to the ground.”
• I release Lily. She crumples, crying harder, clutching her twisted wrist.
• I ignore her.
• My attention snaps back to the girl on the floor.
• Lucien notices. “You want to bring her back with us?”
• “She’s not staying here,” I say. “She’s coming with me.”
• He studies my face for a beat too long. “She’s dangerous.”
• “She’s mine,” Ragnar snarls.
• I don’t correct him.
• Lucien exhales but doesn’t argue. Damon’s already barking orders outside.
• I glance down at her again. She looks breakable. But I know better now.
• This girl—this so-called Omega—is anything but weak.
• She’s chaos. Power. A goddamn storm waiting to be unleashed.
• And she belongs with me.
• Even if I have to chain the storm to my side.