Page 36 of Daisy
My palm still burns where she touched it. Still feels her warmth.
"This way," August says gently, guiding her toward the cabin door. "Let's get you somewhere you can rest."
I follow behind them, hyperaware of every step she takes, every shift in her scent. The others fall in around us, creating a protective barrier without making it obvious. Dante moves ahead to check the room before we enter. Cassian and Hawk bracket our sides, watching for threats.
But my focus stays on her. On the way she moves like every muscle hurts. On the careful way she breathes, like she's trying not to fall apart.
On the fact that for just a moment, she trusted me.
The room is basic but clean. Two double beds separated by a narrow nightstand, a small round table with two chairs by the window, bathroom in the back. Thick curtains that'll block out the sun. August moves immediately to close the blinds, dimming the harsh morning light to something softer.
She stands in the middle of the room looking lost, still wearing Dante's jacket like armor.
"There's a shower," August offers gently. "Clean towels. Take as long as you need."
She nods but doesn't move. I can see her processing, trying to figure out what's expected of her. What's safe.
"We'll be right outside," I find myself saying. "All of us. Nothing's going to hurt you."
Her eyes find mine across the room. Something passes between us—fragile, tentative, but real.
"Thank you," she whispers.
Two words. But they hit me harder than any punch I've ever taken.
She disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water fills the silence. The rest of us stand around like we don't know what to do with ourselves.
"So," Hawk says finally, his voice carefully casual. "Anyone else notice she's our scent match?"
Dante and Cassian both go still.
"What the fuck is a scent match?" Dante asks, confusion clear in his voice.
"You're joking," Cassian says flatly, but there's uncertainty in his amber eyes.
August's hand finds Cassian's arm, fingers stroking gently along his forearm in a gesture so intimate it answers any questions I might have had about their relationship. His hazel eyes are wide with amazement. "I've read about it in books, but to actually witness it... it's incredibly rare."
"What the hell are you all talking about?" Dante demands.
Hawk leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. "That pull you're both feeling toward her? The way your alpha instincts went crazy the second you scented her? That's a scent match. It means she's biologically compatible with us. All of us."
"That's..." Cassian's voice trails off as understanding dawns.
"Impossible?" August supplies softly, his thumb now tracing circles on Cassian's skin. "I thought so too. But the way you all reacted to her, the way your scents responded despite having no blockers left..."
"No blockers?" Dante asks sharply.
"Hers wore off completely from the stress," I explain. "Maybe being near her scent matches made them fail faster. That's why her scent is so strong right now."
Dante runs a hand through his hair, looking shaken. "So what does this mean?"
"It means nothing," I say firmly, "unless she wants it to. We don't tell her. She's been through hell, and the last thing she needs is feeling pressured because of biology." I look around at each of them. "She gets to choose. No expectations, no pressure. If she wants us, it has to be because she wants us. Not because some scent match told her she's supposed to."
The others nod agreement, though I can see the same hunger in their eyes that's clawing at my chest. The need to be close to her, to make sure she's safe, to prove we're worthy of whatever trust she might give us.
The water shuts off. A few minutes later, she emerges wearing one of the motel's terrycloth robes, clutching it tightly closed at her throat. Her hair is damp and her skin flushed from the heat. She looks younger without the dirt and fear, more fragile.
Shit.She's got nothing to wear but that torn nightgown. Need to send August out for clothes once she's settled.
