Page 19 of Daisy

"With you, I learned there's something worth building instead of just destroying."

August's smile could power the city grid. "So when we go to the Omega House tonight?—"

"We're not going to destroy anything," I promise. "We're going to protect. There's a difference."

"I know there is." He crosses to me, goes up on his toes to press a soft kiss to my lips. "That's why I asked you to come with me."

The kiss tastes like hope and pasta sauce and the kind of trust I never thought I deserved. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his.

"Ready to save some omegas?" I ask.

"Ready," he says.

But as we gather our things and head toward the door, I can't shake the feeling that we're walking into something bigger than either of us anticipated. That the past I thought I'd left behind is about to collide with the future I'm trying to build.

The thing about teeth is they leave marks when they bite down.

I just hope August and I are strong enough to survive whatever scars tonight leaves behind.

The Omega Houserises ahead of us like a fortress, all white stone and iron gates designed to look elegant while keeping the world at bay. We've found a spot across the street with goodsight lines, tucked behind a parked van where we're less likely to be noticed.

But we're not the only ones watching.

"Jesus Christ," I breathe, taking in the scene before us.

The front of the facility is chaos. At least thirty alphas crowd the main gates, pressing against the iron bars like animals in a cage. Their voices rise in an angry chorus—demands, threats, the kind of mob mentality that turns rational people into something dangerous. Security guards are stationed behind the gates, hands on weapons, clearly outnumbered but holding their ground.

August is tense beside me, his beta senses clearly picking up on something I can't detect yet. But I trust his instincts completely. If he says something's wrong, then something's wrong.

"There," he breathes, pointing toward shadowy figures moving along the facility's side wall. "Do you see?—"

I see them. Two, maybe three alphas, moving with the predatory grace of people who know how to stay hidden. While the crowd creates a distraction at the front, these ones are going for the back entrance. Even from a distance, I can read the violence in their posture.

"Fuck," I mutter. "Classic pincer move. Distraction at the front, real attack from behind."

The crowd at the gates grows louder, more aggressive. Someone throws a bottle that shatters against the stone wall. The guards shift nervously, calling for backup through their radios.

"We have to stop them," August says, already starting to stand.

I grab his arm, pulling him back down. "We have to be smart about this."

But even as I say it, I'm calculating angles and distances, muscle memory from a thousand fights kicking in. The alphas at the back will be armed, probably high on adrenaline and whatever substances they've taken to work up the courage. The crowd at the front is a powder keg waiting to explode.

This is going to get ugly fast.

"Cass," August's voice is soft but urgent. "Look."

I follow his gaze and see more figures emerging from the alley beside the building. Not guards—these move wrong, too aggressive, too coordinated. They're joining the group at the back entrance.

"Five of them now," I count grimly. "Maybe more."

That's when we hear it.

The explosion comes from the back of the building, a deepBOOMthat shakes the ground beneath our feet and sends car alarms screaming into the night. Orange light flickers against the sky—fire, or at least smoke.

The crowd at the front erupts into chaos. Some alphas cheer, others push harder against the gates. The security guards are shouting into their radios, torn between the mob in front of them and whatever the hell just happened behind them.

"Now we move," I tell August, decision made.