Page 69 of Daisy
I feel my cheeks heat instantly. "Nothing," I say quickly, though my voice sounds breathless.
Hawk's nostrils flare slightly, and I realize he can probably smell the change in my scent. The way it's sweetening, growing richer. The lust I can't quite hide.
Our eyes lock across the table, and the air between us crackles. I catch a glimpse of Dante shifting restlessly in his chair, his jaw tight as he moves to find a more comfortable position.
Hawk gives me that slow, knowing wink that makes my pulse skip.
"Maybe we should watch another movie," Gunner suggests, his voice slightly strained as he reaches for the remote.
Right. Another movie. Focus on that, not on the way Hawk is looking at me like he wants to devour me whole, or the way Dante keeps shifting in his seat.
I’m once again settled against Gunner, but everything feels different now. Charged. I'm aware of every breath, every heartbeat, every small movement from the alphas around me.
On screen, a new story begins, but here, curled against Gunner's warmth with Hawk's scent filling my lungs and Dante's restless presence anchoring the room, I'm learning something too.
I'm learning what it feels like to want something for myself.
And for the first time in my life, that doesn't terrify me.
It thrills me.
As the new movie plays and the room settles into a different kind of tension, I stay pressed against Gunner's side, notwanting this moment to end. Today is my birthday, and instead of being dressed up and presented to strangers who would use my body for their own purposes, I'm here. Safe. Warm. Surrounded by people who care about me as more than just a political tool.
This is the best birthday I've had since before my sisters were taken to the Omega House. Since our shared bedroom went silent and birthdays became formal affairs with Uncle's political allies rather than giggling celebrations with flower crowns and stolen cake.
I think I'm finally home.
Chapter 19
Dante
The room feels different after Gunner and Hawk leave.
August and Cassian crashed in the connecting room the moment they got back from the city, dead on their feet from the long drive. Now it's just me and Daisy, and I'm trying to keep my distance from her. Trying to be professional. Trying to remember she's been through hell and the last thing she needs is another alpha making her uncomfortable.
But fuck me, she's making it impossible.
She's sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading through the Uno instruction card August brought back from the city. Her dark hair falls like silk around her shoulders, and every time she moves, every tiny shift of her body, sends waves of her scent straight to my cock.
Even with the suppressants August gave her, even with the blockers, she's still the most intoxicating thing I've ever breathed. Honeysuckle and vanilla, but deeper now. Richer. Like something that's been sleeping is finally waking up, and all those medications can't quite keep it locked away.
My hands clench into fists where they rest on the small table. I should suggest we do something else. Read a book. Watch TV.Anything that doesn't involve being in the same room as her while she looks so fucking perfect in those soft gray clothes.
"I think I understand," she says, looking up from the instructions, and her voice is soft. Musical. Goes straight to every primitive part of my brain that wants to pin her down and claim her. "But you'll have to be patient with me. We played Go Fish in the van, but this looks more complicated."
Patient.If she only knew how my control is hanging by a thread. How every breath I take floods my system with her sweetness. How I've been fighting these thoughts for hours, trying to be the gentleman she deserves, but her scent is unraveling every wall I've built.
She's my scent match. The knowledge sits in my chest like a lead weight. I should be protecting her, keeping my distance, being the respectful alpha who doesn't take advantage. But fuck, every instinct I have is screaming at me to claim her. To show her exactly what it means to belong to an alpha who would fight heaven and hell for her.
I'm imagining what she'd taste like if I buried my face between her thighs and made her come with my tongue.
Get it together, Dante.I force myself to take a steadying breath, but it only makes things worse. Her scent fills my lungs completely, and I have to grip the edge of the table to keep from reaching for her.
I need to be closer to help her with the game. That's all. Professional. Helpful. Not because I want to drown in her scent or watch the way her lips move when she concentrates.
"Why don't I sit closer?" I suggest, moving from the chair to the other end of her bed. "Make it easier to help if you have questions."
The mattress dips under my weight, and suddenly we're sharing the same space. Close enough her scent wraps aroundme completely. Close enough to see the way her pulse flutters at her throat.
