Page 3 of Daisy
"Your sister Violet had some... attitude problems initially."His grip tightens until I have to bite back a whimper, fingers digging into my collarbone until pain shoots down my arm."But she learned to embrace her purpose. I trust you're more sensible than she was."
I think about Violet's tired eyes, the way she flinched when he said her name. Whatever happened during those weeks she disappeared,it broke something in her.Made her smaller. Quieter. More obedient.
"I'll do my best," I whisper.
"You'll do exactly as you're told," he corrects,but his tone softens like honey over poison."This is what you were born for, Daisy. What generations of our family's bloodline have prepared for."He releases me with a final squeeze that will definitely leave bruises."You should feel honored."
"I won't disappoint you," I manage.
"No." He straightens his jacket, political smile returning. "You won't."
Honored. I try to feel honored instead of terrified, but it doesn't work.I just feel like I'm drowning.
The ballroom doors loom ahead, and I can hear the string quartet, the polite conversation, the undercurrent of alpha energy that makes my skin crawl. Uncle will announce me in a few minutes, and I'll have to walk in there and pretend I wantthis.Pretend I'm grateful for the opportunity to be evaluated like livestock.
I close my eyes and try to remember my training,but my hands are shaking now, my whole body vibrating like I might just come apart.
Smile. Nod. Be grateful. Don't think about what comes after.
Don't think about how much you wish you were someone else.
The doors open.
The scent hitsme like a physical wall.Alpha pheromones so thick I can taste them. Power and dominance and barely contained aggression coiling through the air, designed to intimidate and overwhelm.The competing scents make my head spin. I force my feet to move forward even though every instinct tells me to flee.
I can barely breathe.
Training kicks in automatically. Small steps, eyes down, gentle smile. Don't let them see how terrified you are.
The ballroom is magnificent. All crystal chandeliers and gold leaf, beautiful enough to take your breath away.But all I can focus on is the weight of every gaze turning toward me.The air is thick with their competing scents.Some sharp and clean like winter mornings, others heavy and musky.It's overwhelming, suffocating, designed to remind me exactly how outnumbered I am.
Twenty-seven packs.Twenty-seven packs of eyes stripping me down to breeding potential.
God, if only I could just disappear.
Uncle's hand returns to my shoulderas he guides me deeper into the room,his fingers a constant reminder of who owns me."Gentlemen," he announces, pride ringing in his voice. "MayI present the culmination of generations of careful breeding. My niece, Daisy."
Polite applause follows, and I try to smile,but the sound makes my teeth ache.I keep my eyes down, watching the marble floor instead of meeting anyone's gaze. Maybe if I'm quiet enough, small enough, this will all be over soon.
My attention drifts to the edges of the room where the Omega House guards stand. Beta-born alphas deemed unworthy of elite society but necessary to protect its precious assets. They wear scent blockers, keeping their presence neutral and unobtrusive so as not to compete with the elite alphas being presented with their potential prizes.
Uncle begins introducing me to various packs, speaking about my bloodline, my training, my "exceptional fertility" like I'm not standing right there. The alphas discuss me in clinical terms. Genetic advantages. Breeding potential. The likelihood of producing quality offspring.
I force myself to nod and smile on cue, playing my part.
I try to focus on their words instead of scanning the crowd, but then I see him. My father—William, one of my three fathers—standing with a group of political elites near the far wall. His salt-and-pepper hair is perfectly styled, his expensive suit immaculate. He's exactly as I remember from the handful of times I've seen him over the years.
Our eyes meet for just a moment across the room.I feel a flutter of something… hope? Maybe he'll come over, say something, ask how I'm doing.
Instead, he turns back to his conversation without so much as a nod.
The dismissal stings, but I'm not surprised.I drop my gaze before he can see the tears threatening to spill.
"And her contraceptive implant?" one of the alphas Uncle is speaking with asks, his voice casual, like we're discussing the weather.
"State of the art," Uncle responds smoothly. "Gives the claiming pack complete control over conception timing. They can choose whether she conceives during her first heat, or enjoy several cycles before beginning breeding."
The words hit me like ice water.Uncle's grip keeps me upright as they discuss my body, my future, my life like I'm not even there.I dig my nails into my palms to keep from reacting.
