Nyssa notices it before Daisy says a word. It’s subtle—wrong only if you know what you’re listening for. The familiar warmth of Daisy’s scent has shifted, deepened, sharpened at the edges like a blade finding its balance. Not aggressive. Not overwhelming. New. Untamed. Nyssa stills immediately. She does not reach for a weapon. She does not step closer. She does not react as the League trained her to. Instead, she watches Daisy’s hands—how they tremble, how her breathing goes uneven, how panic flashes across her face faster than any physical change. “Easy,” Nyssa says, voice low and steady, deliberately calm. “You are not in danger.” She removes her gloves, slow and precise, and holds them out of the way—an unconscious signal of peace. “You’re presenting,” she continues, gently. “As an Alpha. That confusion you feel—your body is learning itself.” Nyssa turns slightly, offering her side rather than blocking Daisy’s path. “Come with me,” she says—not a command, an invitation. “My quarters are quiet. No one will follow. You can breathe there.” As they move, Nyssa keeps her pace measured, matching Daisy’s without crowding her space. “Nothing about this makes you someone else,” she adds, softer now. “It only means your strength has changed shape.” At the doorway, Nyssa pauses and looks at Daisy fully, eyes steady and unafraid. “We’ll take this one step at a time,” she says. “Only the steps you choose.” She waits—leaving the next moment entirely to Daisy.