Page 24 of Daisy
Through the fog, I'm dimly aware of being carried. Of voices shouting. Of the alpha describing vile things, acts that would have made me sick if I could still feel anything.
But it all feels very far away now.
Like it's happening to someone else.
The girl who used to be Daisy drifts in perfect emptiness, where there are no monsters, no choices, no consequences.
Where there's nothing at all.
And in that nothingness, finally, I find peace.
Chapter 8
Hawk
My phone buzzes against the metal workbench beside my bed at two in the morning, jarring me out of restless sleep.
I'm sprawled across the narrow cot in my room at the back of our garage, still fully clothed because that's how I sleep when the world's going to shit. The converted warehouse space is cold this time of night, all concrete and metal that holds the chill. Through the thin wall, I can hear Gunner moving around in his own room—he was already awake. He always is when things get bad. Like some part of him can sense danger coming before it hits.
The phone vibrates so hard it sounds like an angry wasp.
"Fuck," I mutter, squinting at the screen. Ace's name flashes back at me, and my stomach drops. Ace doesn't call at two in the morning unless someone's dying.
"Hawk." His voice is tight when I answer. Controlled. But I can hear the edge underneath it, the kind that means he's holding back panic by sheer willpower.
"What's wrong?" I sit up, instantly alert. My bare feet hit the cold concrete floor, and I'm already reaching for my boots.
"We need backup. Now." Ace's words are clipped, urgent. "There's cops and angry alphas outside the house. They're here to take Harley back to the Omega House—or worse, hand her over to some other pack. We need to get her out, but they've got us pinned."
My blood goes cold. Harley. The omega who somehow ended up with Ace's pack after that clusterfuck of a Choosing Day. I'd watched it on TV with Gunner, both of us cheering when she drew their names from the lottery. After years of watching the system fuck over everyone we cared about, seeing them get their shot at happiness had felt like a miracle.
"How many?" I ask, already pulling on my leather jacket.
"Too many. And they're not just protesting anymore." His voice drops lower. "Some of these bastards are talking about taking matters into their own hands. Getting what they think they're owed."
The phone feels heavy in my hand. This is about more than just helping out a friend now. If alphas are organizing, targeting specific omegas...
"We're on our way," I tell him.
"Thanks, brother." The relief in Ace's voice is palpable. "Just need you to draw their attention long enough for us to get her out safe."
I remember the conversation we had a few days after their Choosing Day. Gunner and I had taken on some of their work so Ace and Jax could be there with their new omega. Ace had been high on adrenaline and disbelief, calling to tell me about Harley.
"She's our scent match," he'd said, his voice full of wonder. "All of us. I can't believe it's real."
I'd laughed at him then. "Come on, man. Scent matching? That's just a myth they tell beta-born alphas so we don't feel like we're doomed to turn feral. Give us false hope that we might actually find someone."
"I'm serious," Ace had insisted. "It's... it's like nothing I've ever experienced."
"What does it feel like?" I'd asked. "I still think it's a myth."
"You'll know," he'd said simply. "When you find your omega, you'll know."
At the time, I'd thought he was just pussy-drunk on his new omega. Now, hearing the desperation in his voice as he tries to protect her, I understand it's something deeper.
"Anything else we should know?" I ask, lacing up my boots.
"Yeah." Ace pauses, and I can hear shouting in the background on his end. "The whole city's losing its fucking mind. Be careful out there."
