Page 14 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

Daisy

C onsciousness comes back slowly, like swimming up from the bottom of a deep, dark pool.

I've been floating somewhere else. Somewhere safe and gray and empty where nothing could touch me. But now the world is pulling me back, dragging me up from that quiet place where I could hide from everything that hurt.

I don't want to come back.

In the emptiness, there was no fear. No pain. No rough hands or cruel voices or the sound of someone's neck breaking. There was just... nothing. Perfect, peaceful nothing.

But my body won't let me stay there anymore.

Sensation creeps in slowly. The feeling of movement beneath me—not the gentle sway of being carried, but something mechanical. Rhythmic. The rumble of an engine.

I'm in a vehicle.

The thought cuts through the fog in my head like ice water. My eyes snap open, and immediately I'm hit with sensations that make no sense. The ceiling above me is curved metal. There are windows, but they're blacked out and high up. Everything smells like motor oil and leather and…

Alpha.

The scent hits me like a physical blow, so strong and overwhelming that my lungs seize up. Not just one alpha. Multiple alphas. Four distinct scents layering over each other until I can barely breathe.

But that's not the worst part.

The worst part is that underneath the terror clawing at my throat, some traitorous part of me likes their scents. My omega instincts recognize something in them that calls to me. Something that whispers safe and home and yours .

Which makes absolutely no sense. Because I'm clearly being kidnapped.

Again.

I try to sit up, and that's when I realize I'm not on a seat. I'm being held against someone's chest, their arms wrapped carefully around me. The scent of honey and clove surrounds me completely, and I'm covered by a jacket that carries the same smell.

The scent should be comforting—it reminds me of the guard from the presentation, the one with ice-blue eyes who looked at me like I mattered.

Instead, it makes panic spike through my chest like lightning.

I scramble backward until my spine hits the wall of the van, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. The movement makes my head swim, but I ignore it. I need to see where I am. I need to understand what's happening.

There are two men in the back of the van with me, and two more in the front seats.

The first one I recognize immediately, even though seeing him here makes no sense at all.

My guard. The one who was supposed to protect me at events, who always stood at the edges of rooms watching everything with those careful ice-blue eyes.

I always thought there was something gentle underneath his professional exterior, something that made me feel safer when he was nearby.

Except now he looks anything but professional.

His uniform is torn and stained with dark patches that could be mud or could be blood.

His usually neat short hair is messed up, and there's a cut on his jaw that's still bleeding sluggishly.

He's watching me with those same eyes, and there's something in his expression I've never seen before.

Something that looks almost like... pain.

The second man sitting across from us is bigger, with dark auburn hair and amber eyes that seem to see everything.

There's something dangerous about him, something that speaks of violence barely contained.

His scent is rain before a storm, electric and wild, and it makes my skin prickle with awareness.

In the front, the passenger turns to look at me—long black hair and grey eyes that seem to take in everything about my current state. The driver doesn't turn around, but I can see his green eyes watching me in the rearview mirror, steady and concerned.

Four alphas total, and one of them is supposed to be my guard but clearly isn't anymore because guards don't kidnap the people they're supposed to protect.

My whole body shakes violently. Can't stop it. Can't control anything. Like I'm coming apart at the seams and there's nothing left to hold me together.

"Hey, it's okay," my guard tries, but the moment he speaks, my breathing gets worse. Faster. Shallower.

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

He freezes, and I can see the pain in his expression.

But I can't help it. I'm looking at him like he's another monster because right now, even though their scents whisper safe and home , what I'm seeing terrifies me.

My omega instincts are screaming conflicting messages—their scents say trust them , but my eyes see four huge alphas who could hurt me, and my traumatized brain can't reconcile the difference.

I can't breathe. The van feels like it's shrinking around me, the walls pressing in closer and closer until there's no air left.

The alpha scents are so thick I can taste them on my tongue, and even though some part of me responds to them in ways I don't understand, the panic is stronger. So much stronger.

"We need to get August," the dangerous-looking one across from me says urgently. "Now. She can't breathe with our scents."

"No." My guard's voice comes out harder than he probably intends. "We need to get her out of the city. Your beta can wait."

"Look at her," the first man snaps. "August will calm her. Beta scent."

I can hear them talking about me, but it sounds distant and muffled, like I'm underwater.

My chest is so tight I feel like I'm suffocating.

Black spots dance at the edges of my vision.

I'm still wearing the torn silk nightgown from when the attack started, stained with dirt and things I don't want to think about.

"Fine," my guard says finally. "But we make it fast."

The van lurches forward again, but not for long. I hear the dangerous-looking one giving directions to the driver. "Two blocks east. Coffee shop on the corner."

A car door slams, and I hear footsteps on pavement. Voices outside the van, too muffled to make out words. My breathing is still too fast, too shallow, but the knowledge that there's a beta coming helps somehow.

When the back door of the van opens, I see exactly what I was hoping for—a beta. A tall, lean man with dark curls and gentle hazel-green eyes climbs inside. His scent hits me immediately—cedar and parchment with notes of bergamot, warm and scholarly and completely, utterly safe.

I burst into tears.

Not pretty tears. Ugly, broken sobs that tear out of my throat like they're taking pieces of me with them. All the terror and confusion and overwhelming everything from the past few hours comes pouring out at once, and I can't stop it. Don't want to stop it.

"Oh, sweetheart," the beta says softly, and his voice is like warm honey. "It's okay. You're okay now."

He doesn't try to touch me, doesn't move closer. Just settles himself between me and the alphas, creating a barrier with his body that makes the tight feeling in my chest start to ease.

"I'm August," he says gently. "I know you don't know me, and I know you're scared. But I promise you, no one here is going to hurt you. I won't let them."

There's such quiet certainty in his voice that I almost believe him. Almost.

"They're alphas," I whisper, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "I don't... I can't..."

"I know." August's voice is infinitely patient. "Alpha scents can be overwhelming, especially in a small space like this. Especially after what you've been through."

"I need you to breathe with me, okay?" August says gently. "In for four counts. One, two, three, four. Now out for four. One, two, three, four."

I try to follow his rhythm, focusing on his calm voice instead of the overwhelming alpha presence around us. His beta scent helps ground me, gives me something neutral to anchor to.

"Good," he says softly. "Again. In for four. Out for four."

After a few rounds, my breathing starts to slow, the tight band around my chest loosening slightly.

"Better?" he asks, and I nod shakily.

"Why do their scents..." I trail off, not sure how to put it into words. How do I explain that underneath the terror, there's something about their scents that calls to me? Something that feels like recognition, like coming home to a place I've never been?

"Feel safe?" August suggests gently, though he looks just as confused as I feel. "Even though you're scared?"

"Yes," I breathe. "I don't understand it. They're not... overpowering like other alphas. They're all different but they seem to... fit together somehow. And I like them, which makes no sense."

"I don't understand it either," August admits softly.

"But maybe that's okay for now. Maybe understanding isn't what matters right now.

" He leans back against the side of the van.

"Right now, all you need to do is breathe and rest. We're going to drive somewhere safe, and I'm going to stay right here between you and them the whole time. Is that okay?"

I look past him to where the alphas are watching our interaction with expressions I can't read. My guard looks like he's in pain. The dangerous one looks frustrated but resigned. The one in the front passenger seat has turned back around. The driver's eyes in the mirror are watchful but kind.

"They saved me," I say, and it comes out like a question.

"They did," August confirms.

"From the rogue alpha. From the Omega House." Another piece clicks into place. "The Omega House is gone, isn't it?"

"Damaged," my guard says quietly. "Maybe not gone, but... not safe anymore."

Not safe anymore. Which means I can't go back. Can't return to my pristine room with its silk wallpaper and crystal chandelier. Can't pretend that smiling and nodding and being the perfect omega will keep me safe, because it didn't.

"What happens to me now?" I ask, and my voice sounds very small in the confined space of the van.

"That's up to you," August says, and there's something revolutionary in those four simple words. "You get to choose."

Choose. When's the last time someone told me I could choose anything? When's the last time my opinion mattered, my wants were considered, my voice was heard?

I can't remember. Maybe never.

"Can I..." I swallow hard, gathering courage I didn't know I had. "Can I think about it? While we drive?"

"Of course," August says immediately. "Take all the time you need."

He gestures to the mattress on the van floor. "Why don't you try to rest? It's going to be a long drive, and you've been through a lot."

The exhaustion hits me all at once, like a wave crashing over my head. My body feels heavy and shaky, and my eyelids keep trying to close despite the adrenaline still coursing through my system.

"Will you stay?" I ask August, hating how needy I sound but unable to stop myself.

"I'll stay," he promises. "Right here. The whole time."

I lie down on the mattress, pulling my guard's jacket around me like a shield. It still smells like honey and clove, but now that scent is mixed with August's comforting cedar and parchment. The combination helps quiet the chaos in my head.

The van starts moving again, and I can hear quiet murmurs of conversation from the front seat. The alphas in the back are silent, but I can feel their presence like a weight in the air. Not threatening, exactly, but... intense. Like they're holding themselves back from something.

My eyes drift closed despite my best efforts to stay alert. The last thing I'm aware of is August's steady presence beside me and the oddly comforting rumble of the van carrying me away from everything I've ever known.

Away from my uncle's control and the future he planned for me.

Away from the system that claimed to protect me while putting me directly in harm's way.

Toward something uncertain but hopefully, hopefully better.

Toward something that might actually be free.

I fall asleep to the sound of August humming softly under his breath, and for the first time in my life, I dream of having choices.