Page 98 of Reckless: Chaos

The moment his study door closes, Ryker’s shoulders drop that fraction only I ever get to see. “Your heat.”

“I want her there.” The words spill out like an aria I can’t contain. “I know it’s not?—”

“Do you remember your first heat here?” He cuts me off, voice rough. “After you escaped that arranged match bullshit?”

How could I forget? I’d been terrified, feral with fear of being trapped again. But Ryker... “You sat outside my door for three days. Wouldn’t let anyone near me.”

“Broke two of Jinx’s ribs when he tried to bring you water.” His laugh holds no humor. “Nearly shattered our pack bonds with how hard I fought them.”

“Ryker—”

“These heats...” He moves closer, predator-grace wrapped in protective steel. “They’re ours. Sacred. The one time I get to have you completely. No performances, no masks. Just us.”

Oh.

OH.

“You’re jealous.” The realization hits like a perfect crescendo.

“I’m...” He growls, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Maybe? It’s not that I don’t want her there. You know I do. But...”

“But you want one more heat that’s just us.” I step into his space, letting my scent wrap around him. “One more time where you don’t have to share.”

His forehead drops to mine, a gesture so tender it makes my chest ache. “Am I being a possessive asshole?”

“Yes.” I can’t help but smile. “But you’re my possessive asshole. And Cayenne’s. Even if you need a little time to adjust to sharing heat-space.”

“One more?” His voice drops to that place that makes my omega write sonnets. “Give me one more heat to worship you properly. Then we’ll talk about including our beta.”

Ourbeta. The words sing through our bond.

But something still feels wrong. Like a composition where the final note hangs unresolved. That warning in my instincts growing stronger with each passing moment.

Even as my heart counts each breath like the final measures of a song I never want to end.

Chapter 22

Cayenne

Three AM.The perfect time for system failure, for hearts to break, for the best-laid plans to execute with brutal precision.

I lie in bed counting breaths instead of sheep, each inhale marking time like a death sentence. Seven minutes until the east wing cameras reset—another gift from Finn’s late-night security lessons.“Always know your windows,”he’d said, voice gentle even while teaching me how to disappear.“Time is just another system to hack.”

The USB drive burns in my go-bag like a loaded gun, still tucked under the bed where I staged it three days ago. Everything else stays exactly where it belongs—clothes arranged in drawers, books lined on shelves, pieces of the life I’m temporarily stepping away from. I arrange each item with deliberate care, not props in an abandonment scene but anchors to guide me home.

Ryker taught me the importance of leaving no trace, but this isn’t about vanishing. It’s about having something to come back to. About creating a perfect snapshot of belonging that will wait for me to finish what needs to be done.

Through the ceiling, I track their movements by sound. Jinx’s restless pacing carries the same rhythm as his parkourlessons—three steps, pause, pivot, repeat.“Movement is music,”he’d said, teaching me how to fall without breaking. I wonder if he knows he’s composing the soundtrack to my betrayal.

Theo’s music drifts down in minor keys, each note a warning. He’s been playing darker pieces all week, like he can sense the coming storm. His lessons were always about reading bodies, reading rooms. I guess I learned too well how to make a performance feel real.

Finn’s footsteps trace his security route with mechanical precision. Ten steps to the window. Pause. Check the grounds. Return. The same pattern he taught me to exploit.“Security is just choreography,”he’d explained.“Learn the dance, find the gaps.”

And Ryker...

My throat closes around memories of his hands, his trust, his careful instruction in tactics that I’m about to use against him.“Knowledge is neutral,”he’d said during our last lesson.“It’s how you use it that matters.”

I’m sorry,I mouth to the darkness, to the room I’ve made into home, to the family I never meant to find. But I can’t let him use me to hurt anyone else.

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