Page 26 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

On screen, Elle is proving everyone wrong, showing them she's more than they assumed. But here, curled against Gunner's warmth, I'm learning something too.

I'm learning what it feels like to choose to trust someone.

"Can I ask you something?" I say quietly during a peaceful moment in the movie.

"Anything," Gunner says.

"Where are you all from? I mean, did you grow up here in the city?"

Hawk chuckles from his chair. "Born and raised in the worst part of town. Gunner too. We've been causing trouble together since we were seventeen."

"What kind of trouble?" I ask, surprised by my own boldness.

"The fun kind," Hawk grins. "Street racing, mostly. Though Gun here got arrested for punching some elite alphas who thought they could mess with his sister."

Gunner's chest rumbles with a quiet sound. "Worth it."

I look up at him. "You have a sister?"

His jaw tightens slightly. "Had. She was taken to an Omega House when she presented. Never saw her again."

The sadness in his voice makes my chest ache. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he says simply.

I want to ask more—what was her name? Did I know her? Did she find a good pack?—but something in his expression stops me. The pain there is too raw, too private. He might not want to talk about her.

"What about you?" I ask Dante instead. "Are you from here too?"

"Foster homes, mostly," Dante says, his voice carefully neutral. "Moved around a lot. Actually met Cassian in one of them when we were teenagers."

"And you became friends?" I ask, curious about this connection.

"Something like that," Dante says with a small smile. "We looked out for each other."

I want to ask more, but something in his tone suggests he's shared what he's comfortable sharing for now. Instead, I turn to look at Hawk again.

"Do you really know how to fix cars?"

"Baby, I can fix anything with an engine," Hawk says with that cocky grin. "Want me to teach you sometime?"

The idea of learning something practical, something useful, makes excitement flutter in my chest. "Really?"

"Really. Everyone should know how to change their own oil."

I've never changed oil. Never even thought about it. I don't even know how to drive—omegas aren't supposed to have licenses. But the way Hawk talks about it makes it sound like freedom.

"I don't even know how to drive," I admit quietly. "Omegas aren't allowed."

"Well, that's about to change too," Hawk says with that grin. "I'll teach you. Driving, car maintenance, all of it. Everyone should know how to take care of themselves."

The thought of learning to drive, of having that kind of independence, makes excitement flutter in my chest. When would we start? What would it feel like to control something that powerful?

I turn back to the movie, but my eyelids feel heavy. The warm safety of this room, their protective scents, the emotional weight of everything... it all pulls at me until I can't keep my eyes open anymore.

"Daisy?" Gunner's voice is gentle, pulling me from sleep. "Sweetheart, you hungry? It's past lunch time."

I blink awake to find myself curled against his side, Hawk grinning at me from across the room.

"We should probably order some food," Hawk adds with that familiar mischievous smile.

Food. Another choice.

"What kind of food?" I ask.

"Whatever you want," Dante says. "Pizza? Burgers? Chinese food?"

I've heard of most of those things but never actually eaten them, but something about the way Dante's eyes light up when he says "pizza" makes me curious.

"What's pizza like?"

"Cheesy. Messy. Completely delicious," Hawk grins. "And totally inappropriate for proper young ladies."

The mischief in his voice makes me want to try it immediately.

"Then I want pizza," I say, surprised by my own boldness.

"Good choice," Gunner rumbles against my ear, and the approval in his voice makes warmth spread through my chest.

Hawk pulls out his phone and starts rattling off options. Pepperoni, mushrooms, sausage, vegetables. So many choices. In the end, I let them order a variety, curious to try everything.

While we wait for delivery, I stay curled against Gunner's side. It should feel strange, being this close to an alpha. But it doesn't. It feels... right. Like coming home to a place I never knew I was looking for.

His hand strokes slowly up and down my arm, the gentle touch sending warmth through my entire body.

I can't remember the last time someone touched me with such simple kindness.

Uncle's touches were always possessive, controlling.

The nannies were efficient but distant. But this. .. this feels like being cherished.

I turn into him slightly, my hand settling on his stomach through his black t-shirt. The firm muscle beneath the fabric makes my breath catch. His abs tighten under my palm, and he makes a soft sound—almost a rumble—that I feel more than hear.

I look up at him through my lashes, and for a moment he's still watching the TV.

Then his green eyes find mine, and the intensity there makes my pulse skip.

He's so beautiful in a rugged way—all sharp angles and quiet strength.

There's a small scar cutting through his left eyebrow that I've noticed before but never really looked at.

Without thinking, I reach up and trace it gently with my fingertip. He goes completely still under my touch, his breathing growing shallow as he watches me explore. The scar is thin, silver against his tanned skin, and I wonder what caused it. What story does it tell?

"Daisy," he breathes, my name rough on his lips.

The moment shatters when Hawk bangs through the door, arms full of pizza boxes and wearing the biggest grin I've ever seen.

"Food's here!" he announces cheerfully, completely oblivious to what he's interrupted.

Gunner clears his throat, gently moving my hand from his face. "Excuse me," he says, his voice strained. "Just going to the bathroom."

He disappears quickly, leaving me confused and a little cold without his warmth. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward? I shouldn't have done that. I should have known better than to touch him like that.

I suddenly remember Dante is still in the room and heat floods my cheeks. I'd completely forgotten about him while I was... touching Gunner like that. My scent must spike with embarrassment and confusion because I see him watching me with gentle eyes while Hawk enthusiastically opens pizza boxes.

Dante gets up from his chair and moves toward me, crouching down on the floor beside the bed so we're at eye level. His ice-blue eyes are kind, understanding.

"Hey," he says softly. "Gunner's not upset with you, beautiful."

The endearment makes my chest flutter, but I shake my head. "He left because?—"

"Because he's the opposite of upset," Dante interrupts gently. "He needed to go calm down. You affect him, Daisy. You affect all of us. Your scent is... intoxicating."

My eyes widen. "Really?"

"Really." Dante's smile is warm. "We love seeing you so comfortable today. We love seeing you discover what you want, what feels right to you."

The reassurance settles something anxious in my chest. I didn't make a mistake. I didn't do something wrong.

Dante stands and holds out his hand to me. "Come on, beautiful. Let's get you some of that pizza before Hawk eats it all."

As I take his hand and let him help me up, I catch Hawk looking at me, then toward the bathroom door, then back at me with a knowing wink that makes my cheeks burn. He definitely understands what happened.

"This is going to change your life, princess," Hawk says, pulling out a slice of pizza that stretches cheese in long, tempting strings.

Just then, Gunner emerges from the bathroom, and we all turn to look at him. He seems more composed now, though his cheeks are slightly flushed.

"Take a load off?" Hawk asks with a grin that's pure mischief.

Gunner shoots him a look that could kill, but there's no real heat in it. "Shut up, Hawk."

"Just asking," Hawk says innocently, though his eyes are dancing with amusement.

The teasing lightens the mood, and I find myself smiling despite my embarrassment. This feels so... normal. Like family teasing each other.

The pizza is everything Hawk promised. Cheesy and messy and completely delicious. I get sauce on my fingers and cheese on my chin, and instead of being mortified, I find myself laughing.

Actually laughing.

"Good?" Hawk asks, and there's something in his expression that makes my pulse skip.

"Really good," I say, then bold as anything, add, "You were right about it being messy."

"The best foods usually are," he says, and the way he looks at me makes heat pool low in my belly.

I think about the bathroom last night. About his scent and the way my body responded. About the pleasure I found thinking of him.

Does he know? Can he tell?

But when his eyes meet mine across the small table, something passes between us. Recognition. Awareness. The beginning of something that makes my skin feel too tight.

"What are you thinking about, princess?" Hawk asks, his voice low and knowing.

I feel my cheeks heat instantly. "Nothing," I say quickly, though my voice sounds breathless.

Hawk's nostrils flare slightly, and I realize he can probably smell the change in my scent. The way it's sweetening, growing richer. The lust I can't quite hide.

Our eyes lock across the table, and the air between us crackles. I catch a glimpse of Dante shifting restlessly in his chair, his jaw tight as he moves to find a more comfortable position.

Hawk gives me that slow, knowing wink that makes my pulse skip.

"Maybe we should watch another movie," Gunner suggests, his voice slightly strained as he reaches for the remote.

Right. Another movie. Focus on that, not on the way Hawk is looking at me like he wants to devour me whole, or the way Dante keeps shifting in his seat.

I’m once again settled against Gunner, but everything feels different now. Charged. I'm aware of every breath, every heartbeat, every small movement from the alphas around me.

On screen, a new story begins, but here, curled against Gunner's warmth with Hawk's scent filling my lungs and Dante's restless presence anchoring the room, I'm learning something too.

I'm learning what it feels like to want something for myself.

And for the first time in my life, that doesn't terrify me.

It thrills me.

As the new movie plays and the room settles into a different kind of tension, I stay pressed against Gunner's side, not wanting this moment to end.

Today is my birthday, and instead of being dressed up and presented to strangers who would use my body for their own purposes, I'm here.

Safe. Warm. Surrounded by people who care about me as more than just a political tool.

This is the best birthday I've had since before my sisters were taken to the Omega House. Since our shared bedroom went silent and birthdays became formal affairs with Uncle's political allies rather than giggling celebrations with flower crowns and stolen cake.

I think I'm finally home.