Page 160 of Daisy
Strong. Unafraid. Beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with silk dresses and everything to do with courage. Through our connection, I can taste her determination, her hope, her absolute certainty that she's doing the right thing.
"My uncle, Governor Crane, has been arrested for corruption, bribery, and the illegal imprisonment of male omegas. The evidence we've gathered shows a network of elite families who've built their power on the buying and selling of people."
She pauses, looking directly into the camera. Through the bond, her resolve feels unshakeable.
"No more. Today, we tear down the system that treated omegas as commodities and beta-born alphas as inferior. Today, we build something better. Something based on choice instead of coercion. Something that recognizes every person's right to determine their own fate."
The speech continues, but I'm not just listening to the words anymore. I'm feeling them through our pack bond. Her conviction, her love for all of us, her absolute certainty that this is what freedom smells like. Victory and honeysuckle and the promise of a better world.
This is the woman I always saw in her. The scared woman who used to curl up against my chest when nightmares got too bad was always this strong underneath, now she's letting the world see it. The leader who chose to stand up and fight for everyone who couldn't fight for themselves.
The revolution is over. And somehow, against all odds, we won.
Now the real work begins.
Chapter 42
Hawk
"Hawk, report your position," Dante's voice crackles through my earpiece as I slip through the shadows toward the back of Governor Crane's mansion.
"Oh, you know," I say, stepping over some asshole guard who thought he could take me, "just enjoying the scenic route. Gotta say, rich people have really boring taste in garden statues."
"Hawk."
Ooh, someone's getting pissy. I fucking love winding up Dante when he's in full tactical commander mode.
"Relax, I'm at the service door. About to crash their little staff party." The lock gives way under my picks. "Seriously though, what kind of cheap bastard uses a lock this shitty on a mansion? I'm almost insulted."
"Status on basement access?"
I duck inside, immediately hit with the smell of bleach and old food. Servant central. "Working on it, boss man. Can't rush perfection, you know?"
What I don't mention is that I've already put down two guards who got a little too curious about my presence. Nothingpermanent—well, mostly. One of them might be pissing blood for a few days, but he'll live.
"Hawk, I need actual intel. Not your running commentary."
"Wow, you're really sucking the fun out of this." I move down the hallway, checking doors as I go. Bunch of boring shit, cleaning supplies, fancy linens, more cleaning supplies. "What happened to living a little?"
The basement door's at the end of the hall, and this lock's serious business. Electronic keypad, the works. Good thing Gunner's paranoid ass made me this little gadget.
"Found the fun house entrance," I report.
"Details."
"Let's just say I'm about to go down the rabbit hole. Wish me luck, buttercup."
"Hawk—"
"Radio silence from here, captain. Trust me, you don't want to hear what's coming next."
Because whatever sick fuck keeps a locked basement in his fancy mansion isn't running a book club down here.
I fry the electronic lock with Gunner's EMP toy and slip inside. The stairs are narrow and cold, carved right out of the stone foundation. And the smell hits me about halfway down—fear, pain, and the unmistakable scent of an omega who's been suffering for a long fucking time.
My jaw clenches. Oh, this bastard's gonna pay.
The basement's bigger than expected, split into several rooms. Most of it's storage—wine, fancy furniture, probably blackmail material on half the city's elite assholes. But there's one room with a steel door that looks like it belongs in a prison.
