Page 40 of Daisy
"Doesn't mean I can't care about what happens to you."
I want to believe him. Everything feels so confusing.
"I don't know how to do this," I whisper.
"You don't have to figure it out all at once." August settles back. "We'll be here for you. However you need us."
I glance at Gunner again. His breathing is deep and even, but his body looks uncomfortable as hell in that chair.
"Would you..." I stop, swallow hard, then turn to August. "Would you ask him to move to the bed? When he wakes up? He needs real sleep."
August shakes his head gently. "If you want that, you should tell him yourself. I won't ask for you."
My cheeks burn. "But what if?—"
"Daisy." His voice is soft but firm. "You don't have to ask him. But if you want to, use your words. Don't make me speak for you."
The idea terrifies me, but I understand what he's saying. If I want something, I need to be brave enough to ask for it myself.
August nods, settling back against his pillows. "Try to rest a little more. I'll go get you some clothes later, and we'll stay the night. Move again tomorrow."
I nod, trying to feel comforted by that. But the truth is, the safest I've felt in my entire life was last night, with Gunner's steady presence beside me and my hand touching his leg.
The memory makes heat creep up my neck. I'd never touched an alpha before. Never wanted to. But something about Gunner makes my omega instincts quiet instead of scream.
I settle back against the pillows, my hand still pressed against his leg. Just for a little longer. Just until he wakes up and I have to be brave enough to ask him to take care of himself too.
Outside, the world is probably looking for me. Uncle. The police. Maybe even the Fairburn pack who thought they'd bought me.
But in this small room, with midday light painting everything soft and warm, I feel like maybe I can breathe. Maybe I can figure out who I am when I'm not performing.
Maybe I can learn to trust the people who saved me.
Gunner shifts slightly in his sleep, and I freeze. But he just settles deeper into the chair, and I realize he's unconsciously leaning toward me. Even asleep, he wants to be closer.
The thought should terrify me. Instead, something warm and confusing stirs in my chest.
His scent reaches me—sandalwood and wild fig, warm and grounding. So different from the sharp, aggressive scents of other alphas I've been around. This one doesn't make me want to run. It makes my heart do strange things. Makes me want to breathe deeper.
All of their scents are like that. Gunner's warmth, even Cassian's dark amber and musk that should frighten me. He's so big, so intimidating, but his scent whispers safety instead of danger. Then there's Hawk's caramel and leather that made me feel... something when I first smelled it at the Omega House. And Dante's honey and clove that somehow makes me feel protected even though he was my guard, someone meant to watch me.
I don't understand what's happening to me. Why these alphas make my pulse flutterandrace with fear at the same time. Why their scents make something in my chest hum, but also make me want to run toward them and away from them all at once. It's so confusing.
An hour later,Gunner's eyes flutter open.
I'm still awake, still watching him. I had to move my hand when I turned to talk to August, and I miss that connection. When Gunner's gaze finds mine, something soft crosses his face.
"Hey," he says, his voice rough with sleep.
"Hi." My cheeks burn. Did I wake him? Was I staring too much? "The chair looks..." I stop, biting my lip. Ms. Harlow always said don't criticize, don't make demands.
He stretches carefully, wincing. "I'm fine."
But he's not. I can see the pain in his neck, his shoulders. "It looks uncomfortable," I whisper, then immediately worry I've said the wrong thing.
He shrugs. "I've slept worse."
I take a shaky breath. This is so hard. Asking for things was never allowed. "The bed... there's room. If you want." The words come out in a rush. "I mean, you don't have to. I just thought?—"
