Page 4 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

Dante

T he streets are chaos.

I navigate the black sedan through another blockade, Veronica gripping her clipboard like a weapon in the passenger seat. Smoke rises from three different districts, and I can hear the distant sound of chanting, breaking glass, the occasional alpha roar that makes my teeth ache.

Two days since the Choosing Day disasters. Two days since everything went to hell.

"This is exactly what those little bitches wanted," Veronica spits, her voice tight with barely controlled rage. "Complete anarchy."

I don't respond, keeping my focus on the road as we pass a group of beta-born alphas marching down the main avenue. Their signs read "RIGGED SYSTEM" and "OMEGA CHOICE NOW" in bold, angry letters. Some carry pictures of Harley and Storm, not as criminals, but as heroes.

Fuck. The uprising had been brewing for months, but it exploded the moment Storm's name was called and she drew Jonathan Kingsley from the Choosing Day lottery two days ago.

The head of the Omega House claiming a beta-born omega from his own system, broadcast live to millions.

It was the spark that lit a fire that had been waiting to burn.

I still don't understand why Jonathan would have entered his pack's name in the first place.

The city was already a powder keg.Beta-born alphas growing more restless by the day, protests starting to bubble up in the outer districts.

Any experienced alpha should have seen that claiming an omega from his own facility would cause exactly this kind of chaos.

Unless he wanted the chaos. Unless someone wanted to light that fuse.

And now the city burns.

Through the windshield, I watch a group of young alphas overturn a car.

My hands tighten on the steering wheel.The system that was supposed to protect omegas has created an army of angry, desperate men with nothing to lose.

Beta-born alphas who've been told their whole lives they're worth less compared to elite bloodlines.

Who've watched omega after omega get drawn by elite packs who can afford multiple lottery entries while they scrape together money for one ticket and are still treated as unworthy.

What they saw that day gave them hope.

"The Governor is furious," Veronica says, staring out at the smoke-filled sky. "Three districts under martial law. The stock market crashed yesterday." She turns to look at me.

I turn onto a quieter street in the industrial district, away from the worst of the rioting. Here, the houses are smaller, older, built for working families rather than the elite. Some windows are boarded up, not from recent damage but from years of being unable to afford repairs.

"Which is why today's visit is so important," she continues. "We need to prove that their little rebellion accomplished nothing, and Harley will be placed with a new pack."

My stomach turns.The casual way she talks about moving omegas around like chess pieces, removing them from situations just to prove a point, it makes me want topunch something.

How many omegas have been torn away from packs they wanted to stay with?

How many have been sacrificed to maintain "order"?

But I keep my expression neutral. "Yes, ma'am."

Fuck, I hate myself for it.

But as I pull up to the modest house, I can already tell this visit isn't going to go the way Veronica expects.Not any better than yesterday's disaster did.

I was here yesterday, standing guard outside while Veronica conducted her first inspection. Even from the doorway, I could sense the tension building inside.The sharp edge in Harley's voice when Veronica criticized her nest. The barely contained anger when she defended her space.

Yesterday hadn't gone well for Veronica.

It's a simple single-story home, nothing fancy about it. The kind of place where beta-born alphas might live if they're lucky enough to find decent work. No private security, no signs of wealth or privilege.

Just a house where people live.

Veronica gets out first, her heels clicking on the cracked sidewalk as she approaches the front door.I follow behind, noting the peeling paint on the window frames, the small yard that's been carefully maintained despite clearly being done on a budget.

The first thing that hits me when Ace Bentley opens the door is the scent.

Not the sterile, controlled atmosphere of the Omega House.

Not the calculated dominance displays I'm used to from other alpha packs.

This place smells like a home. Like comfort and safety and something that makes my chest tighten unexpectedly.

But more than that… it smells like happiness.

"Veronica," Ace greets her politely, though I catch the slight wariness. "Please, come in."

I remain outside as protocol dictates, but the door stays open enough for me to see and hear everything.

The living room is small but cozy, clearly lived in. No expensive art or designer furniture, but it feels like a home where people actually live and care for each other.There are personal touches everywhere, photos, books, a throw blanket that suggests real comfort rather than show.

Harley appears wearing an oversized sweater that clearly belongs to one of her alphas, her hair loose and natural. She moves through the space with an ease I've never seen from an omega in any formal setting.When she greets Veronica, there's no fear in her voice. No automatic submission.

She looks genuinely happy.

The realization hits me like asledgehammer. In my years of guarding omega events, of watching presentation after presentation, of seeing omegas handed over to their assigned packs, I've never seen one look genuinely happy.

Grateful, yes. Relieved, sometimes. Resigned, often. But happy? Never.

From my position outside, I watch Veronica enter their space like she owns it.Her eyes roam the living room with obvious disapproval, looking for faults, for signs that this omega isn't being properly controlled.

But what I witness is the opposite of everything the system teaches.

Harley sits beside one of her betas, Dash, I think, and while they don't touch in front of Veronica, there's an easy intimacy between them.When Veronica starts writing notes on her clipboard, shaking her head in disapproval, Harley doesn't cower or apologize.

She just... exists. Comfortable in her own skin, in her own space, with her chosen pack.

"This is not acceptable, Pack Bentley," I hear Veronica's sharp voice from inside. She's moved to inspect what must be Harley's nest. "This isn't up to omega code. There aren't any blackout blinds. There are no fairy lights. You don't have a full-size nest mattress on the floor."

I can't see the nest from here, but I can hear thepainin Harley's voice when she says, "It's fine."There's a possessive edge to it, she's defending something that's hers.

"No, this is not fine. There are rules, Harley."

And that's when everything changes.

I hear Harley's sharp intake of breath, then Veronica's awful yelp.A commotion stirs, and I peer through the doorway to see what's happened.

"She attacked me!" Veronica shrieks, looking around the room for support. "That's not an accident, Mr. Bentley."

I step forward, drawn by the scene.I've never heard of an omega attacking a beta.Veronica must be confused.

"She attacked you?"

But there's something else pulling at my attention.A scent, sickly sweet and thick with pre-heat hormones.I've only encountered omega scent a few times before. Storm, mostly, when she'd refuse her blockers and I could catch traces of her defiance even from outside the Omega House walls.

But this is different. Harley's going into heat, which explains her protective behavior.

Harley drops her eyes to the floor, making herself appear smaller.

"I am sorry, Veronica. I felt a need to protect my mates when you got too close.

I don't know what came over me. I'm in pre-heat and I don't feel fully myself.

You must understand, it's my biology. I couldn't help it. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She looks up through her lashes, and I watch, as Ace watches her with something like admiration. Not disappointment or anger that she stepped out of line. Admiration.

Veronica cocks an eyebrow in obvious disbelief, and I find myself clearing my throat.

"It is true," I hear myself saying. "I learned about it in alpha and omega studies. It happens when an omega goes into heat and perceives a threat to her alphas. You need to sign off so she can be taken care of by her pack."

I nod to Ace, and I can see Harley holding her breath.It's not a complete lie, but I have bent the truth a little.

"No!" Veronica screeches. "I will not sign off. This is far from over."

Harley puts her hand up, stopping Veronica from approaching her alphas. "Maybe it's best you don't get too close to my alphas. I'm very hormonal right now and I don't want to harm you, Veronica."

The threat is subtle but unmistakable. This omega isn't backing down.

I watch emotions flicker across Veronica's face,frustration, disbelief, a desperate search for control she's rapidly losing.There's no one here to back her up. No one playing by her rules.

Finally, she exhales sharply. "Well, I'm done for today. I'll see you all tomorrow."

She spins toward me, and I realize I've been watching the entire interaction with professional detachment.There's something about Harley's defiance, her complete refusal to be diminished, that reminds me of something I can't quite place.

Then Veronica slaps my arm, hard. "This is exactly why you're not allowed near the omegas. It clouds your alpha heads, and you stop thinking straight."

The moment the door closes behind us, Veronica's voice rises to a shrill pitch. "Did you see that? The complete disrespect? The total breakdown of omega behavior?"