Page 62 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

Through my scope, I watch her team approach the mansion's front entrance. Even at this distance, I can make out her small figure in black tactical gear, moving with purpose toward the place where she was raised to be the perfect political pawn.

My finger tightens on the trigger. Every protective instinct I have is screaming. She shouldn't be down there. She should be somewhere safe while we handle this.

"Package entering building," August reports. "Radio silence unless emergency."

I track movement through windows, watch for approaching vehicles, listen to radio chatter from teams across the city. But all I can focus on is the bond between us, that warm thread that connects me to Daisy.

She's focused. Determined. A little scared but holding it together.

Then her fear spikes through the bond like a physical blow.

"Shots fired at Package location!" The radio report makes my vision go red. Every muscle in my body coils to spring, my scent flooding the air with protective rage so intense it makes my own eyes water.

Fuck. Fuck. No.

The others feel it too through our shared connection. Dante's terror tastes like copper and honey. Hawk's fury burns like gasoline. Cassian's deadly calm wraps around us all like a promise of retribution. August's panic threads cold through everything.

Five different types of protective instinct crashing into each other until I can barely think straight.

My scope sweeps the mansion's windows frantically. Looking for threats. For movement. For any sign of what's happening to my omega.

"Come on, sweetheart," I whisper. "Come on."

Through our bond, I feel her fear transform into something else. Determination. Anger. Steel.

That's my girl. Our girl.

Then the radio goes dead.

Complete silence. Not even static.

"August, report," I say into my comm. Nothing. "Dante? Hawk?" Nothing.

The communication blackout hits all of us through the pack bonds. August's panic spikes so sharp it makes my hands shake. Dante's fear tastes like metal in my mouth. Even Cassian's iron control cracks, flooding the bond with protective rage.

Ten minutes of radio silence. Ten minutes of tracking movement through windows while feeling my omega's fear spike and fade and spike again through our connection. Ten minutes of not knowing if she's okay or captured.

Ten fucking minutes that feel like ten hours.

"Movement in the foyer," I report to no one, my voice hoarser than it should be. Through the scope, I track figures moving past windows, but I can't identify who's who from this distance.

Then I see him.

A figure in expensive clothes moving toward the mansion's back exit. Not walking. Running.

Governor. The bastard's trying to escape.

"Package, this is Gunner," I key the radio desperately. "Target is mobile. Repeat, target is attempting to flee."

Static. Dead air.

She can't hear me.

Then the front door opens.

Daisy steps out first.

The relief that floods through all five of us simultaneously nearly knocks me off the roof. Her scent carries even at this distance—honeysuckle and vanilla, victory and pride mixing with the lingering traces of fear and something sharper. Anger. Satisfaction.

She's got blood on her tactical jacket sleeve and her face is pale, but she's walking under her own power.

She's alive. She's fucking alive.

But she's alone.

"Package secure," I breathe into my comm, hoping the radio's working again. "But where's the target?"

Her voice crackles through static: "Target attempted to flee. Had to pursue. He's secured now."

Through our bond, I feel the echo of what happened. The fear when he tried to escape. The moment she had to choose between letting him go or facing him alone. The surge of fierce determination when she chose to fight.

My omega hunted down the most powerful man in the state and brought him to justice herself.

Pride floods through all our bonds so intense it makes my vision blur.

"Package secure," I breathe into my comm, and the pack bonds flood with such intense relief and pride I have to grip the edge of the roof to stay steady. "Primary target in custody."

She did it. My omega, who used to have nightmares about this man, just brought down one of the most powerful politicians in the country. And I can feel exactly how proud and fierce and absolutely exhausted she is through our connection.

"This is Package," her voice comes through my earpiece, steady and strong. "Broadcasting in five minutes. All teams maintain positions until after the announcement."

Broadcasting. The final piece of the plan. Not just arresting the corrupt officials, but telling the world why. Making sure everyone understands what the system really was, what it cost, and what comes next.

I keep my scope trained on the area around the mansion while Daisy and her team set up their equipment in the front courtyard.

Through our bond, I can feel her settling into herself, her scent shifting from battle-ready to determined leadership.

She's gonna make her announcement right here, on the steps of the house where she was raised to be property.

The symbolism makes my chest tight with pride. I feel the others experiencing the same fierce satisfaction through our bonds.

"This is Daisy Crane," her voice carries across the afternoon air as news cameras arrive, and the sound of it makes every one of us react through the bond. Pride. Love. Absolute devotion.

Through my scope, I watch her standing on those mansion steps in her black tactical gear, so different from the silk gowns she used to wear in this same place. The contrast is everything. Property to revolutionary. Decoration to leader.

"Eighteen months ago, I was scheduled to be handed over to the Fairburn pack in a rigged Choosing Day. Today, I stand here as a free omega, speaking for every person who's been treated as property by this corrupt system."

Strong. Unafraid. Beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with silk dresses and everything to do with courage. Through our connection, I can taste her determination, her hope, her absolute certainty that she's doing the right thing.

"My uncle, Governor Crane, has been arrested for corruption, bribery, and the illegal imprisonment of male omegas. The evidence we've gathered shows a network of elite families who've built their power on the buying and selling of people."

She pauses, looking directly into the camera. Through the bond, her resolve feels unshakeable.

"No more. Today, we tear down the system that treated omegas as commodities and beta-born alphas as inferior. Today, we build something better. Something based on choice instead of coercion. Something that recognizes every person's right to determine their own fate."

The speech continues, but I'm not just listening to the words anymore. I'm feeling them through our pack bond. Her conviction, her love for all of us, her absolute certainty that this is what freedom smells like. Victory and honeysuckle and the promise of a better world.

This is the woman I always saw in her. The scared woman who used to curl up against my chest when nightmares got too bad was always this strong underneath, now she's letting the world see it. The leader who chose to stand up and fight for everyone who couldn't fight for themselves.

The revolution is over. And somehow, against all odds, we won.

Now the real work begins.