Page 54 of Daisy

Is this what Hawk felt? This desperate need for more?

My fingers move without me telling them to, exploring. Finding spots that make me gasp and arch against the wall. There's something swollen and sensitive that makes me cry out when I touch it.

I bite my lip to stay quiet, but little sounds escape anyway. My breathing gets faster. My heart pounds so hard I can hear it.

I think about Hawk. About his scent surrounding me. The way he called me princess like it meant something. He touched himself here, thinking about... about relief, about need... can I think about him while I do the same?

I don't know what I'm building toward, but my body does. It knows exactly what it wants, even if my mind doesn't understand. The sensation builds and builds until I can't think about anything else.

When it happens, when my body suddenly arches and shudders and everything explodes into white hot pleasure, I quickly cover my mouth to stop myself from crying out.

After, I sit there shaking, trying to understand what just happened to me. My scent is everywhere, rich and warm and satisfied in a way I've never experienced.

I had no idea I could feel like this.

Is this what I've been missing? What the suppressants kept away from me all these years?

A few days ago, I was the perfect omega who never questioned anything, never wanted anything beyond what I was told to want. And now... now I'm standing in a bathroom, having just discovered pleasure for the first time in my life, and I'm thinking about an alpha who makes me feel safe and scared and confused all at once.

I clean myself up with shaking hands, trying to process what just happened. My body feels different. Lighter somehow, but also more aware. Like something that was sleeping has finally woken up.

Is this what I've been missing? Is this what they kept from me with all those pills and injections and careful monitoring?

The thought makes something twist in my chest. All those years of feeling nothing, wanting nothing. And my body was capable of this the entire time.

But I don't understand it.

I splash cool water on my face, trying to calm the flush in my cheeks. In the mirror, I look different. My eyes are brighter, my lips slightly swollen from biting them. There's a glow to my skin that wasn't there before.

I look like a woman who's just discovered what pleasure means.

When I finally work up the courage to leave the bathroom, I expect to find the room exactly as I left it. August sleeping peacefully, everything quiet and still.

Instead, something feels different.

Through the connecting door between our rooms, I can hear movement. Shuffling. The low murmur of voices that sound... strange somehow. And their scents are so much stronger now than before, drifting through the open doorway. Sharp and intense in a way that makes me feel unsettled in a way I can't name.

August is awake, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. When I emerge from the bathroom, he looks up, and there's something in his expression that makes me want to hide.

"You okay?" he asks softly, but his voice sounds strained.Raw.

"I... yes?" I'm not sure it's true, but I don't know how to explain what just happened. How do I tell him I just discovered my body can feel things I never knew existed?

He nods, but he won't quite look at me. Like he's afraid of what he might see. "Good. That's... that's good."

Something about the way he says it makes my stomach clench with worry. Through the connecting door, I hear someone curse under their breath. Low and desperate. The creak of bedsprings.

My face burns. Something's wrong with them, and I think... I think it might be because of me.

"Are they okay?" I whisper, moving closer to August. His scent wraps around me, warm cedar but it's different now. Sharper. Affected.

"They're fine," he says, his voice tight.

But something in his tone tells me there's more. Like they're fighting something. Like I'm the thing they're fighting.

"August?" I sit on my bed, facing him. "What's wrong?"

He's quiet for a long moment, his hands clasped between his knees. When he finally looks at me, I can see he's trying to decide what to say.