Page 7 of Daisy
Unless he wanted the chaos. Unless someone wanted to light that fuse.
And now the city burns.
Through the windshield, I watch a group of young alphas overturn a car.My hands tighten on the steering wheel.The system that was supposed to protect omegas has created an army of angry, desperate men with nothing to lose. Beta-born alphas who've been told their whole lives they're worth less compared to elite bloodlines. Who've watched omega after omega get drawn by elite packs who can afford multiple lottery entries while they scrape together money for one ticket and are still treated as unworthy.
What they saw that day gave them hope.
"The Governor is furious," Veronica says, staring out at the smoke-filled sky. "Three districts under martial law. The stock market crashed yesterday." She turns to look at me.
I turn onto a quieter street in the industrial district, away from the worst of the rioting. Here, the houses are smaller, older, built for working families rather than the elite. Some windows are boarded up, not from recent damage but from years of being unable to afford repairs.
"Which is why today's visit is so important," she continues. "We need to prove that their little rebellion accomplished nothing, and Harley will be placed with a new pack."
My stomach turns.The casual way she talks about moving omegas around like chess pieces, removing them from situations just to prove a point, it makes me want topunch something. How many omegas have been torn away from packs they wanted to stay with? How many have been sacrificed to maintain "order"?
But I keep my expression neutral. "Yes, ma'am."
Fuck, I hate myself for it.
But as I pull up to the modest house, I can already tell this visit isn't going to go the way Veronica expects.Not any better than yesterday's disaster did.
I was here yesterday, standing guard outside while Veronica conducted her first inspection. Even from the doorway, I could sense the tension building inside.The sharp edge in Harley's voice when Veronica criticized her nest. The barely contained anger when she defended her space.
Yesterday hadn't gone well for Veronica.
It's a simple single-story home, nothing fancy about it. The kind of place where beta-born alphas might live if they're lucky enough to find decent work. No private security, no signs of wealth or privilege.
Just a house where people live.
Veronica gets out first, her heels clicking on the cracked sidewalk as she approaches the front door.I follow behind, noting the peeling paint on the window frames, the small yard that's been carefully maintained despite clearly being done on a budget.
The first thing that hits me when Ace Bentley opens the door is the scent.Not the sterile, controlled atmosphere of the Omega House.Not the calculated dominance displays I'm used to from other alpha packs. This place smells like a home. Like comfort and safety and something that makes my chest tighten unexpectedly.
But more than that… it smells like happiness.
"Veronica," Ace greets her politely, though I catch the slight wariness. "Please, come in."
I remain outside as protocol dictates, but the door stays open enough for me to see and hear everything.
The living room is small but cozy, clearly lived in. No expensive art or designer furniture, but it feels like a home where people actually live and care for each other.There are personal touches everywhere, photos, books, a throw blanket that suggests real comfort rather than show.
Harley appears wearing an oversized sweater that clearly belongs to one of her alphas, her hair loose and natural. She moves through the space with an ease I've never seen from an omega in any formal setting.When she greets Veronica, there's no fear in her voice. No automatic submission.
She looks genuinely happy.
The realization hits me like asledgehammer. In my years of guarding omega events, of watching presentation after presentation, of seeing omegas handed over to their assigned packs, I've never seen one look genuinely happy.
Grateful, yes. Relieved, sometimes. Resigned, often. But happy? Never.
From my position outside, I watch Veronica enter their space like she owns it.Her eyes roam the living room with obvious disapproval, looking for faults, for signs that this omega isn't being properly controlled.
But what I witness is the opposite of everything the system teaches.
Harley sits beside one of her betas, Dash, I think, and while they don't touch in front of Veronica, there's an easy intimacy between them.When Veronica starts writing notes on her clipboard, shaking her head in disapproval, Harley doesn't cower or apologize.
She just... exists. Comfortable in her own skin, in her own space, with her chosen pack.
"This is not acceptable, Pack Bentley," I hear Veronica's sharp voice from inside. She's moved to inspect what must be Harley's nest. "This isn't up to omega code. There aren't any blackout blinds. There are no fairy lights. You don't have a full-size nest mattress on the floor."
