Page 32 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

Daisy

O h my goodness, actual fresh air.

I step outside the cabin, tugging August's oversized sweater around me like armor.

We got here yesterday after two weeks of constantly moving, never staying anywhere longer than a few days.

Two weeks of cramped motels and sleeping in the van.

For the first time since this whole mess started, I can actually stretch my legs and breathe without feeling like I'm suffocating.

Trees everywhere. No perfectly trimmed hedges, no roses arranged in mathematical precision. Just chaos. Wild, beautiful chaos that makes something tight in my chest finally loosen. The cold air carries the scent of pine and earth and something clean that makes me hum with contentment.

A bright red bird darts between branches, and I actually laugh out loud. When's the last time I saw something alive that wasn't kept in a cage for my viewing pleasure?

Right. Never.

"Enjoying the scenic tour, princess?"

I spin around to find Hawk strolling over, leather jacket hanging open despite the cold because apparently hypothermia is just another rule he refuses to follow.

His dark hair looks like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket, and there's that dangerous smile that makes my stomach do stupid fluttery things.

The way he moves should be illegal. All predatory grace and swagger, like he knows exactly what effect he has on people and enjoys every second of it.

His scent hits me as he gets closer—caramel and leather and something uniquely alpha that makes heat pool between my thighs despite the suppressants I choked down this morning.

I can smell the shift in his scent when he catches my reaction. Caramel going deeper, more possessive. My body responds immediately, producing slick that I pray he can't detect through the chemical barriers.

"It's incredible," I say, meaning it. "So quiet. So... free."

"Miles and miles of sweet nothing," he confirms, falling into step beside me as I wander toward the tree line.

His shoulder brushes mine, and the brief contact sends electricity skating across my skin.

"Nearest neighbor is about ten miles that way.

" He jerks his thumb east. "Old-school mountain folk who shoot first and ask questions never. "

"Comforting."

"According to the guy who sold us this place, they're the type who keep to themselves. Should work out fine for us."

We walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, our breath visible in small puffs. I can hear the others moving around inside—the quiet murmur of conversation, the clink of dishes being washed. Domestic sounds that still feel surreal after a lifetime of servants.

The suppressants are working, mostly. But being this close to Hawk, breathing in his scent, I can feel my body trying to respond. Warmth spreading through my core, the faintest hint of slick between my thighs. I know what I want, even if my brain is telling me to wait.

"So we're actually safe here?"

"Safe as I can make you," he says, and his voice loses that playful edge for a second.

When Hawk gets serious, it's like watching a switch flip.

His scent shifts too—caramel and leather going darker, more possessive.

Makes my pulse jump and my core clench. "This place doesn't exist on any grid that matters.

No cell towers, no main roads, just us and whatever's living in those trees. "

"You know," Hawk says after we've walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, "if I had all the money in the world, I'd buy you a mansion. Like, stupidly big. Fifty rooms and a garden the size of Rhode Island."

I consider this, then shake my head. "Actually, mansions are cold. I've lived in them my whole life. This cabin is warm. It's just right."

Hawk grins like I just told him the best joke ever. "Look at you, little Goldilocks. Found yourself a cabin that's just right, complete with four alpha bears and one adorable beta bear."

The comparison makes me snort-laugh—my first real laugh in days. "Does that make you Papa Bear?"

"Heck no, I'm way too pretty to be Papa Bear," he says, striking a ridiculous pose. "I'm definitely the ruggedly handsome bear who teaches you questionable life skills."

"Like what?"

"Hot-wiring cars, for starters."

"You actually know how to do that?"

"Among other questionable skills, yeah." His expression shifts, getting more serious. The playful mask slips just enough for me to see something deeper underneath. "Can I ask you something that might make you uncomfortable?"

I brace myself. "Shoot."

"The laws about betas and omegas—I know what the books say. But what do you actually think? Deep down, do you buy into that nonsense about how they shouldn't mix?"

The question catches me off guard, but in a good way.

I think about August—steady, gentle August who makes my heart flutter when he smiles.

Who reads to me with that soft voice that makes me want to curl up against him.

Who brings me tea and looks at me like I'm precious, not like a walking uterus with legs.

But I also think about what I've seen. Storm and Frankie, the way they looked at each other with such tenderness.

And Harley—I caught glimpses of her in the garden with that beta guard, the way they smiled at each other when they thought no one was watching.

It looked like love. Real love. And it broke my heart knowing it was considered illegal.

"I think the laws are completely ridiculous," I say, then immediately glance around like the Omega House matrons are going to appear and lecture me about proper language.

Old habits. "August is... he's amazing. He's kind and smart and he makes me feel safe.

Why should anyone care that he's beta and I'm omega? "

"Because the system needs omega baby-making machines paired with alpha sperm donors to keep churning out more omegas," Hawk says bluntly. "It's all about control and keeping the bloodlines 'pure.'" The way he says 'pure' like it tastes bad makes me like him even more.

"You sound like you've given this some thought."

"I've thought about a lot of things that are supposedly wrong.

" His eyes find mine, and I can smell his scent intensifying.

"Like omegas actually getting to choose who they want to be with.

Maybe they should be treated as more than breeding machines.

Maybe choices should matter more than what's between your legs or in your DNA. "

The passion in his voice, the way he's looking at me like I matter—like my thoughts matter—makes something warm settle in my chest. I can feel my body responding before my brain can stop it, and I catch the exact moment Hawk's nostrils flare.

He can smell my arousal. Even through the suppressants, he knows.

"Do you think things could actually change? The laws, I mean?"

"I think they have to," he says, dead serious now. His voice has gone rougher, and I can see the way his pupils have dilated slightly. "And I think people like you are going to be the ones to change them."

"Me?" I laugh, but it comes out shaky. "I'm nobody special. I'm just?—"

"You're a strong omega," Hawk cuts me off. "You think that doesn't mean something?"

Before I can figure out how to respond to that bombshell, he switches gears with typical Hawk smoothness.

"Speaking of things that matter," he says, bumping my shoulder, and even that small contact sends electricity through me, "how are you holding up? Really? I know the suppressants are doing their job, but I can smell that you're... responsive."

My face goes bright red. He's talking about the slick. About how my body reacts to them even through the medication. About how even now, just talking to him, I can feel myself responding.

"I'm fine," I lie. "Not going into heat or anything. Just... responsive."

The word feels inadequate. Like calling a wildfire a candle. But I'm still learning how to talk about these things without my face catching fire.

"That's totally normal," he says, and his voice has gone rougher. "Being around people you're attracted to tends to mess with your system. Your body knows what it wants even when your brain's telling it to chill out."

"How much longer will the suppressants last?"

Hawk's face gets serious. "August counted yesterday. About two and a half weeks."

Well, that's terrifying. Two and a half weeks until the suppressants run out and then... I don't even know. Could be days, could be a week before my body stages a hostile takeover. Before I'm in heat, surrounded by alphas who smell like everything I've ever wanted.

"Hey," Hawk says, catching my mini panic attack. His scent wraps around me, trying to soothe. "We'll figure it out. No pressure, no timeline, no nonsense. Just... maybe start thinking about what you actually want. What feels right to you."

I nod, though my heart's doing gymnastics. The idea of being with them during my heat makes me practically vibrate with anticipation, even as my brain freaks out.

"Actually," Hawk continues, and that mischievous glint is back, "speaking of things that feel right... I've been thinking about something."

"What?"

"First kisses."

I think my brain just short-circuited. The spike of need that shoots through me is so strong I'm amazed I don't fall over. "What about them?"

"Well, I overheard you talking to August yesterday about never being kissed. And I was thinking... maybe it's time to fix that?"

I stop walking so fast I nearly trip over my own feet. My heart pounds. "Hawk... you weren't supposed to hear that. Did anyone else?"

"Just me, and I promise I haven't told anyone," he says gently. "And before you panic, I'm not suggesting me," he adds quickly, hands up like he's surrendering. "Though I'd be honored as heck if you wanted that. But I see the way you look at him."

"Him?"

"Gunner." His smile is knowing and maybe a little smug. "The way you watch him when you think nobody's looking. The way you naturally gravitate toward him."

Busted. My face burns, but I don't deny it. "I don't want you to be upset."

"Upset?" Hawk actually laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Princess, the only thing that would upset me is watching you deny yourself things you want because you're worried about hurting our delicate alpha feelings."

"But I do have feelings for you too," I say, the words coming easier now. Hawk makes me feel like I can say anything. "For all of you. Different feelings, but real ones. Is that wrong?"

"That's exactly how it's supposed to work," he says seriously. His scent wraps around me, warm and reassuring. "That's what makes this a pack instead of just a bunch of guys who happen to live together with the smartest and strongest woman we've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

I blush at his words. Smartest and strongest? Me? I duck my head, touched by his faith in me.

"So you really wouldn't be upset? If I... if I asked Gunner to kiss me?"

"I'd be over the moon," he says honestly. "You know why?"

I shake my head.

"Because our boy Gunner has been saving his first kiss his whole darn life."

"His first kiss?" My heart skips a beat. The thought of sweet, strong Gunner being just as inexperienced as me fills me with happiness. "He's never...?"

"Never," Hawk confirms. "Waiting for the right person, the right moment. Waiting for you, turns out."

The idea makes me practically glow with happiness. We'd be figuring it out together. Choosing each other.

"You really think he'd want that? With me?"

"He'd be absolutely thrilled," Hawk says, dead serious. "Question is—do you want it?"

I think about Gunner's steady presence. The way he makes me feel protected without feeling trapped. The warmth in his green eyes when he looks at me like I'm something precious. The way his scent—sandalwood and wild fig—makes me feel grounded and safe.

"Yes," I say, and my voice is stronger now, more certain. "I really, really want that."

"Then let's make it happen." Hawk's grin is absolutely brilliant. "You stay right here where I can see you. I'm going inside to tell everyone to give you two some space. Then I'm sending our boy out here."

"What if I chicken out?"

"Then you chicken out and we try again tomorrow," he says like it's the simplest thing in the world. "No pressure, remember? Just possibility."

Before I can lose my nerve completely, he's striding back toward the cabin. I watch him disappear inside and hear the low rumble of voices through the windows. My heart pounds as I wait, and I can smell my own need spiking.

A few minutes later, Gunner emerges alone, his eyes finding me immediately across the clearing.

My heart pounds as he approaches, and I think about what Hawk said. About first kisses and waiting and choices.

For the first time in my life, I'm about to choose something just because I want it.

And I want Gunner's mouth on mine more than I want my next breath.