Page 10 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

Daisy

T he explosion tears through my world like the end of everything.

I'm in my room, curled up with Mikey's copy of Jane Eyre, trying to lose myself in someone else's story when the first blast hits. The crystal chandelier above my bed sways violently, tinkling like broken music. The windows rattle in their frames so hard I think they might shatter.

My heart stops. Actually stops for one terrifying beat before hammering back to life so hard it hurts.

For a heartbeat, there's silence.

Then the screaming starts.

The sound hits me like ice water in my veins. High, desperate, the kind of screaming that means something terrible is happening. My hands convulse so violently I drop the book, pages fluttering as it hits the floor.

I run to my door on unsteady legs, pressing my ear against the wood. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Footsteps thunder down the hallway… running, not walking. Voices shout over each other, high and panicked. I catch some words, "back entrance" and "where are the alpha guards?"

Where are the alpha guards? The question echoes in my head, and my stomach drops.

Another explosion, closer this time. The floor beneath my feet trembles, and dust rains down from the ceiling.

I stumble, catching myself against the wall as my knees threaten to give out.

The wallpaper with its delicate roses seems to mock me now.

This beautiful prison is falling apart around us, and there's nowhere to run.

My fingers tremor as I turn the door handle. I know I should stay in my room, lock the door, wait for someone to come get me. But the screaming is getting louder, and I can smell smoke seeping under my door.

What if no one comes? What if they forget about me?

The thought makes panic crawl up my throat like acid.

The hallway is chaos.

Omegas in silk nightgowns run past me, their faces white with terror.

Some clutch jewelry boxes or precious belongings with trembling hands.

Others just run, bare feet slapping against marble that's now cracked and uneven.

The emergency lighting has kicked in, casting everything in an eerie red glow that makes it look like we're already in hell.

"Daisy!" Camelia appears beside me, tears streaming down her face. At sixteen, she looks even younger now, like a child lost in a nightmare. "What's happening? Where are we supposed to go?"

"I don't know," I whisper, because it's the truth and the truth is horrifying. No one ever told us what to do if the walls came down. We were taught to be perfect, obedient, beautiful. Not how to survive.

My chest feels tight, like there's not enough air in the world.

That's when we hear it. The sound that makes my blood turn to ice.

Male voices. Deep, rough, shouting orders. But not the controlled tones of our guards or the smooth authority of administrators. These voices are wild, hungry, violent. They're coming from the direction of the main corridor, getting closer with every heartbeat.

"Hide," I breathe, grabbing Camelia's arm with numb fingers. "We have to hide."

But where? The main entrance is blocked by the mob outside, and those voices are coming from that direction anyway. The voices are getting closer, along with heavy footsteps that make the floor vibrate under our feet.

"You take the east wing, I'll take the west!" one of them shouts, and nausea hits me like a punch to the gut. They're coordinating. This isn't random chaos… they are hunting us.

Camelia and I duck into an alcove, pressing ourselves against the wall behind a marble statue.

My heart pounds so hard I'm sure they'll hear it echoing off the walls.

I try to slow my breathing the way Ms. Harlow taught us for presentations, but each inhale is too shallow, too quick, making me lightheaded.

Stay calm. Stay quiet. Stay invisible.

But calm is impossible when my whole body feels like it's coming apart. Sweat beads on my forehead despite the cold fear coursing through me.

Please, I think desperately. Let them pass by. Let this be a nightmare I can wake up from.

Footsteps echo down our hallway. Heavy boots, not the soft-soled shoes of our guards. Each step makes my pulse skip and race faster. A man appears in the red emergency lighting, and every instinct I have screams danger so loudly I almost whimper.

He's big, probably mid-thirties, with the kind of build that comes from hard labor and harder living.

His clothes are torn and stained with something dark that could be mud or could be worse.

But it's his scent that makes bile rise in my throat and burn.

Aggressive musk mixed with alcohol and something sour and rotten that speaks of unwashed skin and twisted intentions.

The smell alone makes my omega instincts recoil in revulsion. This isn't the controlled dominance of trained alphas. This is something broken and twisted, something that takes pleasure in causing pain.

His eyes scan the hallway like a predator searching for prey, and I know with horrible certainty that if he finds us, we're dead.

"Come out, come out, little omegas," he calls in a sing-song voice that makes my skin crawl. "We know you're here. Daddy just wants to play."

The way he says 'play' makes every hair on my body stand up. Camelia whimpers beside me, a tiny sound that seems deafeningly loud in the red-lit silence. I press my palm over her mouth, pulling her deeper into the shadows.

The alpha moves past our hiding spot, and for one blessed moment I think we're safe. But then another set of footsteps echoes from the other direction, and my heart stops completely.

We're trapped.

"Find anything good?" the second alpha calls, his voice just as rough, just as hungry.

"Not yet. But I can smell them." The first alpha inhales deeply, and the sound makes my skin want to crawl off my body. "Sweet little omegas, just waiting to be claimed. Governor's been hoarding the good ones too long."

They're talking about us like we're things. Like livestock to be divided up among thieves. The casual way they discuss us makes something inside me shrivel and die.

That's when I see him.

Mikey is at the far end of the hallway, pressed against the wall near the emergency exit. His young face is pale but determined, and he's clutching something in his hand, a weapon, maybe, or a radio. He's trying to get to us, trying to help.

No. My mind screams the word. Don't come here. Don't try to save us. Run.

He's so brave. So much braver than I am.

I want to call out to him, to warn him, but terror has stolen my voice. My chest constricts so tightly I can barely get any air at all. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision.

The first alpha turns just as Mikey steps into the light.

Everything slows down. Time moves like syrup, each second stretching endlessly.

The alpha's face splits into a grin that has nothing human in it. Pure predator recognizing easy prey. Mikey tries to run, but he's too young, too small, too slow. The alpha moves with predatory grace, catching him before he makes it three steps.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Mikey fights. He really does. His hands come up, his radio clatters to the floor, but he's just a boy trying to stop a monster.

The sound he makes when the alpha breaks his neck is small and sharp, like a bird hitting a window.

The crack echoes in the hallway. In my head. In my soul.

He falls.

And doesn't get back up.

My vision tunnels. My ears ring. Something inside my chest tears apart.

His eyes stare at nothing, wide and surprised, like he can't quite understand what just happened. Dark liquid pools beneath his head, spreading across the pristine marble.

The book he gave me is still in my room. Jane Eyre. A story about a girl who fought back.

Mikey will never read another story.

"Shame," the alpha says, stepping over the body like it's rubbish. "But I prefer omegas anyway."

That's when his eyes find mine.

The world stops.

His gaze locks onto me through the shadows, and his grin widens until I can see all his teeth. Predator. Hunter. Monster .

I try to run, but my legs won't work. Terror has turned my muscles to water, my bones to glass. Camelia screams. A high, piercing sound that echoes off the walls and the predator's grin widens.

"There we are," he purrs, stalking toward us with deliberate slowness. "Two pretty little presents, gift-wrapped and everything."

Each step he takes makes my pulse race faster. I'm hyperventilating now, tiny gasps that aren't giving me enough oxygen. The edges of my vision keep going dark.

His scent hits me like a physical blow as he gets closer. Something wrong. Something that wants to hurt and break and destroy.

I'm going to die. The thought crystallizes with perfect, awful clarity.

"Please," I whisper, my voice cracked and broken. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" He's close enough now that I can see the madness in his eyes, pupils blown wide with whatever drugs he's taken. "Don't take what's mine? Don't claim my prize?"

His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, yanking me away from Camelia. His grip is iron, bruising, fingers digging into my bones. When I try to pull away he just laughs.

The pain shoots up my arm, but it's nothing compared to the terror clawing at my throat.

"You're coming with me, princess. You and me are gonna have some fun."

"No!" The word tears out of me, raw and desperate. I struggle against his hold, but I'm small and fragile and trained to be decorative, not strong. He drags me toward him like I weigh nothing.

"Fight all you want," he says, his breath hot and rancid against my face. "I like it better when they fight."

The casual cruelty in his voice shatters something inside me. This isn't just happening. This is what he wants. He wants me to be scared. He wants me to suffer.

That's when he flips me over his shoulder.

The world spins violently. Suddenly I'm upside down, his shoulder digging into my stomach while he carries me like a sack of grain. Air rushes from my lungs in a painful whoosh. All the warmth drains from my body.

I can see Camelia pressed against the wall, frozen in terror, watching him take me. Her face gets smaller and smaller as he carries me away.

"Let me go!" I beat my fists against his back, but it's like hitting a wall. My hands sting and throb but he doesn't even seem to notice. "Please!"

"Not a chance, omega." His hand gropes at my thigh where my nightgown has ridden up, fingers rough and possessive. Bile burns in my throat. "You're gonna make me feel real good. Been waiting too long for a piece of omega tail to sink my knot into."

The words hit me like physical blows. He's going to rape me. The knowledge sits in my stomach like a stone, cold and heavy and undeniable.

He starts walking, carrying me deeper into the building, away from any hope of rescue. Each step jostles me, making my ribs ache where they dig into his shoulder. I can hear other omegas screaming in the distance, and I know we're all lost.

No one is coming to save us.

I think about Storm. About how fearless she looked, how she never backed down from anything, never let anyone make her small.

What would Storm do?

She'd fight. She'd claw and bite and make them regret touching her. She'd be fierce and angry and unafraid.

But I'm not Storm. I'm just Daisy. Soft, obedient, valuable property who was trained to smile and submit and never cause trouble.

I don't know how to fight. I don't know how to be brave.

All I know how to do is break.

So I do.

Something inside me just... snaps. Like a rubber band stretched beyond its limit, like glass under impossible pressure. The terror is too immense, the helplessness too overwhelming. My mind simply can't contain it all.

I feel it happen. Feel the exact moment when my consciousness decides to let go.

The struggling stops. The screaming stops. The feeling stops.

The world becomes distant and gray, like I'm watching someone else's nightmare through frosted glass. The alpha's hands on my body don't feel real anymore. His voice becomes meaningless noise, like static from a broken radio. Even the pain fades to nothing.

I float somewhere else. Somewhere safe and quiet where monsters can't reach me.

Where Mikey's sightless eyes can't stare at me with silent accusation.

Where uncles and alphas and the whole twisted system can't touch the small part of me that still remembers sitting under a cherry tree, pretending I was just a normal beta girl.

Let them take my body. Let them do whatever they want with this shell.

The real Daisy, the one who dreams of choice and freedom and love, retreats so deep inside that nothing can harm her.

This floating place has no fear. No pain. No awareness of rough hands or cruel words. Here, I am safe in the nothingness, wrapped in gray silence that shields me from everything.

Through the fog, I'm dimly aware of being carried. Of voices shouting. Of the alpha describing vile things, acts that would have made me sick if I could still feel anything.

But it all feels very far away now.

Like it's happening to someone else.

The girl who used to be Daisy drifts in perfect emptiness, where there are no monsters, no choices, no consequences.

Where there's nothing at all.

And in that nothingness, finally, I find peace.