Page 35 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

Cassian

S he wants me closer.

The words echo in my skull like gunshots. Daisy—sweet, terrified Daisy who's been looking at me like I might eat her alive—just told me to sit down because she wants me here.

Wants me.

Her sweet omega scent fills the room, making my cock jerk against my jeans like I'm some teenager who's never scented an aroused woman before. But underneath all that sweetness, there's something else. Something that sets my alpha instincts on fire and doesn't let go.

Mine.

The word pounds through my blood. Mine, mine, mine.

Except she's not. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"I want to know about you." Her voice is stronger than I've ever heard it. Steadier. "Both of you. I want to understand what I'm choosing."

Choosing. She said choosing.

Not accepting. Not tolerating. Choosing.

Fuck, the difference matters.

August settles beside her on the bed. Close but not crowding. Smart man. He's always been better at reading people than me. Better at knowing how to make them feel safe instead of like they're being hunted.

"What do you want to know?" August asks.

Her dark eyes dart between us. I can smell her nerves mixing with determination and something else. Something that makes my mouth water and my hands itch to touch.

Arousal. She's aroused just being in the same room as us.

"How long have you been together?" she asks, looking at August. "Really together, I mean."

"About a year," August says. "Since the night we met."

She leans forward, surprised.

"You fell in love that fast?"

"I fell in love the moment he showed up and saved me." August's scent goes warm.

"Didn't save you," I mutter under my breath. "Other way around."

Heat crawls up my neck. I remember that night. The rage that consumed me when I saw that bastard touching August. Knew for damn sure I'd kill before letting anyone hurt him.

Same feeling I get when I think about anyone hurting Daisy.

"And you?" Those dark eyes lock on mine. "When did you know?"

When did I know? Hell.

"When he asked me to stay," I say, my voice rougher than I want. "When he saw how fucked up I was and... asked me to stay anyway."

"What was wrong with you?"

Everything.

"Was living rough. Fighting for cash." I run my hand through my hair. "Had nothing. Just... violence and shit that would give people nightmares."

"Cassian," August warns quietly.

But I keep talking. She wants to know? She gets to know.

"Foster care till I aged out." I clench my fists. "Dad went feral when I was eight. Killed my mom before..." I can't finish that. "Bounced around after that. Got too big, too angry. Nobody wanted to deal with me."

Her scent spikes. Sympathy, maybe.

"That sounds horrible."

"It was." I lean forward. Elbows on knees. "I don't... I'm not good at..." Fuck. How do I explain this? "Violence was all I knew. Still is. August deserved someone who wasn't broken."

Through our bond, I feel August's response. Not pity, but fierce protectiveness and love. The same certainty that's kept us together for a year.

I shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have?—

"But you stayed." She says simply. Like it matters more than all the rest.

"He made me want to try being better." I look at August. See the soft affection there. "Made me believe I could be worth something."

The way she's looking at me now. Like she's trying to understand instead of just being afraid. Does things to my chest. Makes something tight ease up.

And her scent. Getting sweeter. Richer. Like my honesty turns her on.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice goes shy.

"Anything."

"Are you afraid of me?” I shake my head. Never.

“Are you afraid of me being afraid of you?"

Gut punch. Because yes. Fuck yes.

"Every damn day," I admit. "You look at me like..." I stop. Shift in the chair. "Like I'm gonna hurt you. Like you're just waiting for me to snap."

"Oh." Something changes in her voice. Guilt mixed with something else. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean?—"

"Not your fault." I force my voice gentler. "I know what I look like. Know how big I am. Makes sense you'd be..."

"But I don't want to be afraid of you." Real frustration now. "I know you're good. I know you'd never hurt me. But you're so big and intense, and I don't know how to not feel overwhelmed."

Something loosens in my chest. She doesn't want to be afraid.

Fuck. All this time I thought it was just who I was. The scary alpha. The one people cross the street to avoid. But she's fighting it. Fighting her own fear because she wants to trust me. Wants to know me.

That's more than I dared hope for.

"What would help?" August asks. "What would make you feel less overwhelmed?"

She's quiet. Thinking. That intoxicating sweetness that drives me crazy getting stronger despite those suppressants.

"I think part of it is that I don't know you." She looks at me apologetically. "I know August. I know the others. But you've been keeping your distance. And I have too. I'm sorry for that."

"To give you space."

"I know. But now I want to know you. I want to understand who you are underneath all that intensity."

She wants to know me. And she's apologizing for keeping her distance too. She doesn’t need too.

I clear my throat. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," she says breathlessly. And I catch that spike of arousal. "What makes you happy? What scares you? What do you want?"

No one other than August has ever asked me that.

"You scare me. How much I... the way you smell, it makes me..." I trail off. Clench my jaw. "Never felt like this. Want to keep you safe so bad it hurts. Want to claim you so fucking bad I have to..." I gesture to my clenched fists.

Her breath catches. Fresh slick.

"Really?"

"Really. Makes me want to... fuck , keep you safe. Makes me want to bury my face between your thighs and taste you until you forget your own name."

A whimper escapes her. Cheeks flushing pink. But she doesn't look away.

"But you deserve gentle. And I don't know how to be that."

"But you are gentle." Her voice soft. "With August. I've watched you. The way you touch him. You're careful with him."

"That's different."

"How?"

"He's not..." I struggle. "He's not... he knows what he wants. You've been through hell."

"I'm not broken." Steel in her voice. "I'm healing. And I'm learning what I want."

Something in me rumbles approval. She's right. Not broken. Strong. "Little fighter," I murmur, and mean every word.

"What do you want?"

Her scent blooms richer. "I want to not be afraid. I want to choose. And I want..." She stops. Cheeks going darker.

"What?" August prompts.

"I want to know what it feels like to be wanted. Really wanted. Not for what I represent but for me." Shaky breath. "And I want to know what you taste like. Both of you."

My cock jerks hard. The innocent way she says it. Like she doesn't realize how fucking erotic those words are.

"You are wanted," I tell her, voice rough with need. "You have no idea how much. Your scent makes my mouth water. Makes me want to pin you down and?—"

I stop myself.

"And what?" she whispers.

"Things that would probably scare you."

"Try me."

Challenge in her voice. Makes me grin.

"Makes me want to pin you down and lick every inch of you." The words come out rough. "Want to make you come until you can't think. Want to bury myself so deep inside you that you'll feel me for days."

Small sound. Almost a whimper. I can smell how wet she is, how much she wants this.

"Maybe," August says, voice thick with his own want, "Cass should take his shirt off."

We both stare at him.

"What?" Heat dancing in his eyes now. "I'm just saying, Cassian's very nice to look at without a shirt. Might help Daisy see that underneath all the scary alpha exterior, he's just a man. A very attractive man with an incredible body."

Heat floods my face. But Daisy's breathing picks up. I can smell her need intensifying.

"Would that be okay?" Her voice comes out breathy. "If I looked?"

The shy way she asks. Makes my cock twitch.

"If you want."

She nods quickly, biting her lip. "I want to. I want to see you."

I stand slow. Give her time to change her mind. When she doesn't, I grab my shirt and pull it over my head.

She sucks in a sharp breath. Nearly brings me to my knees.

"Oh my goodness." Her scent floods the room with want. I can smell her slick now. Sweet and musky and perfect.

I know what she sees. Scars mapping my chest and arms. Jagged line across my ribs from a knife fight. Burn mark on my shoulder from a cigarette. Evidence of every hard lesson.

But also muscle. Broad shoulders. Defined abs from years of real work. The tattoo across my collarbone that says August's name in script.

"You're beautiful," she says softly.

I freeze. "I'm marked up."

"You survived." She shifts closer on the bed. Her scent stronger. Hands trembling. "All of these... they're proof of how strong you are. How much you've overcome."

She moves even closer. Close enough to feel her heat. Close enough that her scent surrounds me completely.

"Can I touch you?"

Nearly stops my heart. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," she says, her voice thick with want.

Her hand comes up slow. Hovers over the scar across my ribs. When she finally makes contact, skin against skin, I bite back a groan.

Only August has ever touched my scars like this. Like they're part of something beautiful instead of proof of everything ugly about my past. Her fingers are gentle, reverent almost. Like she's mapping me. Claiming me.

I catch August's emotions through our bond… wonder and pride, like he's seeing me through her eyes for the first time.

Gentle but not hesitant. She traces the scar end to end. A purr rumbles through my chest so loud it vibrates through both of us.

"You're purring."

I'm so shocked I can't speak for a moment. August looks at me with wonder, a smile spreading across his face. He looks so damn happy, like he's been waiting for this moment.

"Never done that before. Not until you."

"Really?" Other hand flat against my chest. Over my heart.