Page 59 of Daisy

"You really don't mind?"

"Mind?" He lets out a quiet laugh, and I feel the warmth of it through our bond. "Cassian, I'm incredibly grateful. It means I get to keep you."

Keep me. Forever. The words settle in my chest like a promise.

We drive quiet for a while. The bond steady between us, warm pulse in my chest that keeps me grounded. But the closer we get, the more tension builds. Instincts on high alert.

"What's the plan?" I ask.

"Our place first," August says. "Just clothes and cash."

"How long we got?"

"Before someone notices we're missing?" He thinks. "I missed my shift yesterday. If I don't show today, Mrs. Taylor might start asking questions."

The thought of someone tracking him down makes my hands clench. "We'll be fast."

"Fast but careful," August agrees.

The apartment building looks the same. Brick and mortar, nothing fancy. Home for a year now. First real home I've ever had. The thought of leaving it makes something twist in my gut.

But it's more than that. Here, it's just us. August and me. Simple. I know how to be his alpha, how to protect what's mine. But four alphas all scent matched to the same omega? That's so rare it might as well be myth. What happens when those instincts clash? When we're all biologically programmed to be her primary protector?

What the fuck happens to what August and I have when we're part of something bigger?

"You sure about this?" I ask as we climb the stairs. "Once we do this, there's no going back. No normal life. No library job." I pause, the real fear clawing at my throat. "No just us."

August pauses at our door, key in hand. When he looks at me, his hazel eyes are steady.

"There was never going to be normal with you," he says. "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

But he's not addressing the real question. The one I can't bring myself to ask out loud.What happens when I fuck this up?Because I will. I always do. I've destroyed every good thing I've ever touched, and now we're walking into something I don't understand with people I barely know, trying to protect someone so fragile she breaks just looking at me wrong. And when it all falls apart - when the darkness gets too heavy, when I make the wrong call, when I prove I'm exactly as broken as I look - what happens to August then?

August unlocks the door, and I follow him inside, the weight of my fears settling heavier with each step.

The apartment smells like us when we step inside. Like cedar and rain and the life we built together. One year of this. One year of August reading to me when the darkness gets bad, of waking up without nightmares, of believing maybe I could have something good without destroying it.

And now we're walking away from all of it.

August moves efficient through the space, pulling clothes from drawers. Essentials only.

I watch him pack his favorite books. The ones with worn spines and dog-eared pages. Academic texts mixed with fiction. Some poetry book he reads to me when I can't sleep.

"Take them all," I say.

"We don't have room?—"

"Make room."

He looks at me, understanding. These books are pieces of who he is. I won't let him lose himself for this.

I grab our emergency cash from behind the loose baseboard. Three hundred in small bills. We'll add it to whatever we can get from Dante's card. Should be enough for what we need.

That's when we hear footsteps in the hallway. August goes rigid.

The knock comes soft but insistent.

"August, dear? I know you're in there. I brought you some soup."