Page 12 of Daisy

My hands shake as I turn the pages. What would that feel like? To meet someone and have butterflies instead of terror? To know that whatever happens between you is your choice, not something arranged by men in suits who see you as a commodity?

I think about that night at the presentation. About ice-blue eyes that looked at me like I was a person instead of a prize. About honey and clove cutting through my blockers and making my omega instincts settle in a way that felt... right.

Safe.

But that's just fantasy. Guards are beta-born alphas, deemed unworthy of elite society. Even if he could claim an omega, it would never be me. Uncle would never allow it.

The Fairburn pack has already paid for me. Already decided when they want to breed me. Already planned out my heats like they're scheduling meetings.

My future is set in stone, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Another wave of chanting rises from the streets, and I close my eyes, pressing the book against my chest like a shield. Maybe if I'm very quiet, very still, I can pretend I'm someone else. Someone brave enough to fight.

Someone who gets to choose.

But when I open my eyes, I'm still in my golden cage, counting down the days until I'm gifted to strangers who will own every part of me.

Two weeks.

Thirteen days, twenty-three hours, and forty-seven minutes.

Not that I'm counting.

And I wonder which one of us is really free.

Chapter 5

August

Something's wrong.

I've felt it all day, this restless energy under my skin that makes it impossible to focus on cataloging the new arrivals or helping Mrs. Taylor find another romance novel with a happy ending. The sensation sits heavy in my chest, like storm clouds gathering before the sky breaks open.

The library is my sanctuary. Has been since I was twelve and discovered that books couldn't hurt you the way people could. But today, even surrounded by the familiar scent of old paper and binding glue, I can't shake the feeling that the world is tilting off its axis.

Outside, the riots continue. Over a week since Choosing Day, when an omega named Storm drew Jonathan Kingsley's name from the lottery—the head of the Omega House claiming one of his own omegas in what everyone knew was a rigged system. The protests started immediately, beta-born alphas flooding the streets, their rage finally finding a target. But it's not the distant sound of chanting that has my nerves on edge.

It's something deeper. Something that makes my beta instincts scream that people are in danger.

I shelve another returned book, my hands moving automatically while my mind races.Environmental Science.The Art of War.Pride and Prejudice—the same worn copy that gets checked out every few weeks by betas from the nicer districts. Normal things. Safe things.

They feel like lies today.

The main door chimes, and I look up to see Cassian walking toward me. Even across the library, I can read the tension in his shoulders, the way his amber eyes scan the room like he's checking for threats. My chest tightens with worry and something else… relief that he's here, that I'm not facing this strange unease alone.

"Hey," he says softly when he reaches the circulation desk. His scent wraps around me like a security blanket—dark amber with that underlying note of musk that's purely him. "How's your day been?"

"Restless." I don't bother lying to him. After a year together, Cassian can read my moods better than I can sometimes. Plus, with our bond, there's no point in pretending. He's probably been feeling echoes of my unease all day."Something feels wrong. Has all day."

He nods, understanding immediately. One of the things I love most about him, he never dismisses my instincts, even when I can't explain them logically.

"Riots are getting worse," he says, leaning against my desk. "Passed three groups coming here. They're angry."

I study his face, taking in the slight furrow between his dark brows, the way his jaw is set. "You're worried about something specific."

He glances around the library, making sure we're alone except for Mrs. Taylor, who's lost in her romance novel three aisles away. "Guys at my old gym. Talking about the Omega House. About taking what they think they deserve."

Ice runs down my spine. "What kind of something?"