Page 31 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

August

S omething's wrong.

I feel it through the door before Gunner even starts talking. The way his voice sounds when he calls my name. Urgent. Sharp.

"August, we need to move. Now."

I'm already grabbing my jacket. In the few days we've been running, I've learned to trust these moments.

Daisy sits on the edge of the bed. She's still got that soft look from whatever happened with Dante last night. But when Gunner's words hit her, I watch it all change. The happiness fades. Fear takes over.

"What happened?" I ask, stepping into the main room where Gunner and Hawk are packing.

"Two cars circling the area," Hawk says. His hands never stop moving. "Could be nothing. Could be everything."

"Three passes," Gunner adds. His jaw is tight. "We're not waiting to find out."

This is not our first time doing this dance. Already too many times.

I move to help Daisy, but she's frozen on the bed. Her eyes are wide. Her scent spikes with panic. Honeysuckle turning sharp and bitter.

"Hey." I sit beside her. Keep my voice calm. "We're okay. This is just being careful."

"They found us." Her voice breaks. "They found us."

"We don't know that. And even if they did, we're ready." I reach for her hand, but she flinches. She's back in survival mode. All that trust we built, cracking under pressure.

The others move around us like a storm. Bags zipped. Escape routes confirmed. It's familiar and terrifying.

"I can't do this," Daisy whispers. The pain in her voice cuts right through me. "I can't spend my whole life running."

"You won't have to," I tell her. "This won't be forever."

But right now? It feels like it might be.

"Van's loaded," Hawk calls. "Two minutes."

I help Daisy to her feet. She's shaking. Not from the cold. From having your world turned upside down just when you thought you might be safe.

The ride is tense. Silent. Daisy sits on the mattress between Gunner and me while Hawk drives and Dante rides shotgun. Cassian sits at the back of the van, watching through a small gap in the blacked-out windows for any sign of pursuit. Every mile without trouble helps us breathe easier.

But Daisy doesn't relax. She gets smaller. Pulls into herself.

"Talk to me," I say quietly. "What's going on in that head?"

She's quiet for so long I think she won't answer.

"I felt safe." Barely audible. "For the first time in my life, I felt truly safe. And now..."

"Now you feel like safety was just an illusion."

She nods. I see her throat work as she swallows back tears.

"It wasn't an illusion," I tell her. "What you felt was real. What happened with Dante was real. Moving doesn't change that."

Her scent shifts slightly. Embarrassment mixed with something warmer. I can smell traces of Dante on her still, underneath her natural honeysuckle. Something happened between them last night. Something intimate.

"Daisy," I say gently. "Can I ask... are you okay? After last night?"

She looks at me with wide eyes. "You can smell it."

"We all can. But that doesn't mean you owe us details." I keep my voice careful. "As long as you consented. As long as you felt safe."

"I did," she says quickly. "I mean, I asked for it. I wanted it." Color floods her cheeks. "We didn't touch each other... but we touched."

I pause, trying to understand. "How can you not touch but touch?"

"We were in the same space. We... experienced things together. But we didn't actually..." She trails off, too embarrassed to finish.

Understanding dawns. "You explored," I supply gently.

"Yes." Her voice is small. "I'd never felt anything like that before. Never knew my body could feel that way."

"How do you feel about it now?"

"Scared," she admits. "But also... proud? Like I finally did something just because I wanted to."

"Good," I tell her. "That's exactly how you should feel."

She leans against my shoulder, some of the tension leaving her body. "Thank you. For not making me feel ashamed."

"Never," I promise. "Your choices are yours. All of them."

She's quiet for a moment, processing. "I keep thinking about how different it felt. Making my own choice instead of having someone else decide for me."

"That's what freedom looks like," I tell her gently. "One choice at a time."

"I want to make more choices," she says, so quietly I almost miss it. "Real ones."

"You will, sunshine. When you're ready." I stroke her hair gently. "For now, why don't you try to rest? I'll take care of everything."

"All clear back here," Hawk calls from the driver's seat, his voice carefully casual. "False alarm. Nobody is following us."

I feel Daisy's whole body relax against me. Her scent shifts from sharp anxiety to something softer, more neutral. "Oh, that's good," she breathes, relief evident in her voice.

But when I look up, Hawk's eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. The look he gives me is grim. Definitely not a false alarm.

My blood runs cold, but I keep stroking Daisy's hair, keep my voice calm. "Everything's fine now, sunshine. Get some sleep."

We drive until dark, putting as much distance as possible between us and whatever was back there. The motel comes into view. Another anonymous stop. Another temporary shelter.

A week later, I'm starting to forget what privacy feels like.

We've been through seven motels, two nights sleeping in the van, and one terrifying twenty-four hours hiding in an abandoned warehouse. Constant movement. Constant vigilance. No time for anything but survival.

Daisy hasn't complained once, but I can see the toll it's taking. We all can. She's getting quieter, more withdrawn. The confidence she'd been building is buried under exhaustion and fear.

"This is it," Dante says, pulling into the driveway of what looks like an old hunting lodge. "Off the grid. Cash purchase. Should be safe for a while."

I look at the tiny structure and my heart sinks. One main room. One bedroom. Six people who haven't had a moment's peace in days.

"It's perfect," Daisy says, but her voice lacks conviction.

We unload our few possessions in silence. Everything we own fits in three bags now. The life we've been living distilled down to absolute necessities.

"I'll take the couch," Cassian says immediately.

Smart. Putting distance between himself and Daisy without making it obvious.

She's still wary of him, though she has spoken to him a few times and that's been progress.

But I know how badly he wants her to feel safe, wants her to like him.

This is just Cassian's way of letting her know where he'll be sleeping so she doesn't worry he'll be in the only bedroom with her.

"We'll figure it out," Dante replies. "Right now, let's just get settled."

As the others move around the great room, I watch Daisy.

She's standing in the middle of the space, looking overwhelmed.

Almost two weeks of running has worn her down to nothing.

The room is decent-sized for a hunting lodge - two couches, an armchair, old but functional furniture - but it feels cramped with six people, especially four large alphas.

"Want to help me check the kitchen?" I offer.

She nods gratefully. We move to the kitchen area against the far wall - old cabinets and a stovetop, no oven.

At least there's power, so we'll have hot water and lights.

We inventory the supplies left by the previous owner.

Canned goods that last forever. Instant coffee.

Rice. Pasta. The kind of stuff hunters stock for occasional trips. Basic, but it'll do.

"August?" Her voice is hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"What if I'm putting you all in danger? What if Uncle never stops looking for me?"

Her scent spikes with anxiety. Sharp and acidic underneath the honeysuckle.

"Hey." I set down the can and turn to face her fully. "We knew the risks when we chose to protect you. All of us. We're not going anywhere."

"But what if?—"

"Daisy." I keep my voice firm but gentle. "You're not responsible for what other people choose. Your uncle chose to treat you like property. We chose to get you out. Different choices."

"I just..." She takes a shaky breath. "I keep thinking I don't deserve this. Don't deserve all of you caring about me."

"You deserve everything good," I tell her honestly. "You deserve safety and choice and people who put your happiness first."

She's quiet for a long moment, processing this. Then she glances toward the great room where the others are settling in, her expression thoughtful.

"I keep thinking about kissing," she says suddenly.

"Kissing?"

"I've never been kissed." The vulnerability in her voice makes my chest tight. "Despite everything that happened with Dante, I've never felt someone's lips on mine."

It's not strange. It's heartbreaking.

"Not even with Dante that night?" I ask gently.

She shakes her head, color flooding her cheeks. "We didn't touch each other... but we touched."

"Who would you want to kiss?" I ask softly.

"I..." She stops. "I can't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because it feels selfish."

"Daisy." I step closer. "It's okay to be selfish. No one here will think less of you if you kiss one of them. They're big boys. They want you to be happy in any way - whether it's what you shared with Dante or kissing someone else. They'll be happy for you. That's all."

She's quiet, processing this.

"So I'll ask again," I say gently. "Who would you want to be your first kiss?"

She looks up at me with those dark eyes. "I think about Gunner."

My heart does something complicated. Part jealousy, part joy. She's finally saying what she wants.

"You think?"

"I know," she replies, and there's something different in her voice. Stronger. More certain.

"Then maybe you should tell him that," I say simply.

"I think you've spent too long keeping your feelings to yourself." I touch her shoulder gently. "And I think Gunner would be honored to know you trust him with something so important."

She nods slowly. Decision forming.

"Maybe when we get settled here," she says. "When things feel less chaotic."

"Whenever you're ready."

As we finish in the kitchen, I feel hopeful for the first time in days. Not because we've found temporary safety, but because Daisy is starting to believe she deserves to want things.

Even in the middle of chaos, she's learning to choose.