Page 27 of Daisy
This is about predators who've found their way into the henhouse.
Gunner drives around to the back of the Omega House, where we can see the real chaos unfolding. A gaping hole has been blown through the white stone wall, and alphas are pouring through it like water through a broken dam.
But it's not just the attackers that catch my attention. In the red emergency lighting, I can see figures in uniform. Guards trying to hold their ground against impossible odds. One of them, tall with buzzed hair, fights with controlled precision even as he's overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
I watch in horror as three alphas tackle him to the ground. He's good. Really good, but there are too many of them.
"Fuck," I breathe, watching the guards get overrun. "They're not going to hold."
Gunner parks the van behind some debris, engine still running. I can see his hands gripping the steering wheel, his jaw set with determination and old rage.
"You stay with the van," I tell him, already reaching for the door handle. "Keep the engine running. We're going to need a fast exit when this goes sideways."
"Hawk—"
"Gun." I look at him directly.
I can see him wrestling with it, the need to fight warring with the knowledge that I'm right. Finally, he nods.
"Be safe," he says, his voice rough.
"Always am," I promise.
I slip out of the van and into chaos.
The air hits me immediately thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning plastic and wood. I can hear voices from inside the building. Rough, male voices shouting orders and making threats that turn my stomach. And underneath that, higher pitched sounds that make my heart race for all the wrong reasons.
Crying. Pleading. The kind of sounds that mean innocent people are being hurt.
I move toward the breach in the wall, staying low and trying to use the shadows for cover. My boots crunch on debris, chunks of white stone and twisted metal that used to be part of the Omega House's pristine facade.
I slip through the hole in the wall and into the Omega House proper. The hallways are a maze of smoke and red emergency lighting, filled with the sounds of chaos and terror.
I'm not the only one who made it inside with good intentions.
The tall guard I saw fighting outside is here, moving through the hallways with deadly purpose. Blood stains his uniform, but he's still standing, still fighting. When he sees me, his ice-blue eyes narrow with suspicion.
"You're not one of them," he says, voice clipped and controlled despite the chaos around us.
"No," I tell him, raising my hands to show I'm not a threat. " I'm here to help. Tell me what you need."
He studies me for a heartbeat, clearly trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing here. "Why?"
Before I can answer, another figure emerges from the smoke. Taller, broader, with dark auburn hair and amber eyes that scan the hallway like he's cataloging every threat. He moves likeviolence given form, and when he sees the guard, something shifts in his expression.
Recognition. And something deeper.
"Dante," the newcomer says, his voice rough with surprise and something else I can't name.
The guard—Dante—goes completely still. "Cassian." The name comes out like he can't quite believe it. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Thought you might need help," Cassian says simply, but there's weight behind the words. History.
These two know each other. And from the tension crackling between them, it's complicated.
We move deeper into the building together, following the sounds of distress. The hallways are a maze of marble and crystal turned into a war zone. Emergency lighting casts everything in hellish red, and the air is thick with smoke and fear.
That's when we round a corner and see them.
