Page 9 of Daisy
My blood runs cold.Not just because of what she's saying, but because of how she's saying it. The way her pupils dilate when she talks about the Governor. The flush in her cheeks.
Veronica is obsessed with him.
"Elite breeding, proper placement, no room for choice," she murmurs, and I realize she's not just talking about policy.She's talking about worship.
Everything becomes clear.Daisy's upcoming placement isn't just another political marriage arrangement. It's the Governor's ultimate power play, complete control over his most valuable asset. And Veronica gets to bask in his reflected glory, proving her worth to the man she's clearly infatuated with.
Daisy is going to be made an example of.
"You'll be on security detail for her final presentation," Veronica continues, snapping back to business but with that unsettling gleam still in her eyes. "Elite high-profile alphas only, carefully screened. No surprises, no deviations from protocol. She'll be placed with whichever pack the Governor deems most advantageous, and that will be the end of it."
I nod, keeping my expression neutral, but inside something is breaking apart.
Back in the car, driving through streets where the rebellion burns stronger than ever, I can't stop thinking about the contrast.
Harley, who somehow found happiness despite the system.
Daisy, who follows every rule and will be sacrificed for it.
But it's not just the contrast that has my chest tight with something I can't name.It's the memory of seven weeks ago. The way Daisy had looked at me across that ballroom, not through me like I was furniture, but at me. Like she saw something worth seeing.
I've been a guard for years. I've stood at the edges of countless events, invisible and ignored.But for one heartbeat, Daisy had looked at me like I mattered.
And then there was her scent.
Daisy's scent had been... impossible to describe. Sweet honeysuckle and vanilla, but underneath it, something that had called to every protective instinct I possessed. Not for any omega I've watched over before… this was different. Something that had made my chest ache in a way I'd never experienced.
I'd never really scented an omega before, not like that. As alpha guards, our blockers usually work well enough to keep us neutral around the omegas. But something about that night, something about her, had cut through everything.
Even now, weeks later, I can still remember it.The way it had made me want to find her and shield her from whatever was causing her such obvious pain.
She'd looked so delicate in all that silk and perfection.So terrified behind her carefully practiced smile.This fragile omega who seemed afraid of her own shadow, and yet somehow brave enough to meet a guard's eyes across a room full of predators.
I think about how her uncle had spoken about her breeding potential while she stood there like a beautiful statue, trained to smile and nod and be grateful for whatever fate was decided for her.How one of her own fathers had dismissed her with barely a glance.
The system worked exactly as designed that night.Daisy performed her role flawlessly, charmed the elite alphas, displayed all the proper omega responses. She was everything Harley refused to be.Obedient, compliant, perfectly controlled.
And she looked utterly miserable.
Not that anyone cared.Her feelings weren't part of the equation.
But I saw it.In the brief moments when she thought no one was looking, when her careful mask slipped just slightly.I saw the girl underneath all that training.
We drive back toward the Omega House through streets filled with smoke and sirens. Groups of beta-born alphas marchwith signs demanding change.Their chants of "Omega Choice Now" echo off the buildings, a rallying cry that's spreading like wildfire.
They're not trying to destroy the world. They're trying to save it.
I understand their anger in a way that cuts too close to home.Most of these alphas will never find their omega, will never have the chance to bond. They'll turn feral by forty-five, just like I will.Beta-born alphas aren't meant to live long lives, we're disposable, useful until we break.
I've made my peace with that fate.What I can't stomach is the lottery system that pretends to offer hope while rigging every outcome.These alphas march because they want real choice, not the illusion of it. They want omegas to choose their mates, not have them assigned by politics and money.
That's why I've never entered my name or got myself a pack.Not because I don't want an omega, god knows the loneliness eats at you some nights.But because I refuse to participate in a system that treats omegas like prizes to be won.
But Veronica sees only chaos where others see hope.
"Those riots need to be contained," she mutters, watching a group of young alphas overturn a police barricade. "The elite districts are asking for military intervention."Her voice takes on that dreamy quality again."The Governor is handling it perfectly, of course. He's so... capable."
I keep driving, but my mind is elsewhere.Thinking about that moment when my eyes met Daisy’s. About a girl in silk who looked like she was drowning in all that perfection. About her scent that somehow broke through industrial-grade blockers and called to something I didn't know existed inside me.
