Page 100 of Reckless Consequences

“The others get off okay?” she asks, finishing a complex sequence before pushing back from the console.

“Just left. Supply run and materials for Theo’s music room.”

She stretches, her tank top riding up to reveal a strip of pale skin at her waist. My eyes track the movement before I can stop myself. “So it’s just us for a few hours?”

Something in her tone shifts the energy between us—subtle but unmistakable. Her scent intensifies slightly, the citrus-bright notes that define her laced with something warmer, sweeter. Since her designation adaptation, her scent has evolved to carry omega undertones that respond to alpha proximity in ways that still catch me off-guard.

My pupils dilate in response, throat tightening with an instinctive growl I don’t fully release, hands flexing at my sides as if readying to reach for her.

“Just us,” I confirm, meeting her gaze steadily. “East wing?”

“East wing,” she agrees, standing. But as she moves past me, her hand brushes mine deliberately, sending a spark of connection through our bond that hits like electricity. “After you, Commander.”

The east wing has been our most recent renovation project—converting what were once guest suites into more practical spaces for our needs. One room has become a medical station with equipment Mona deemed “minimally adequate.” Another serves as a communications center with backup systems for our primary hub. The last, and largest, is being transformed into a secondary control room—redundancy being a core principle of our security design.

It’s in this room that we begin the final installation process. The work is detailed but straightforward—mounting control panels, connecting power supplies, integrating the local systems with the main hub.

We work together with the easy synchronization that has developed over months of partnership. She handles the programming elements while I manage the physical installations, our movements complementing each other without need for constant direction.

“Have you thought about what Theo said?” she asks after we’ve been working in comfortable silence for nearly an hour. “About family. About the future.”

I connect another power coupling before answering, taking a moment to find the right words. “Yes.”

“And?”

I glance up, finding her watching me with that keen intelligence that misses nothing. “It’s not something I ever considered possible. Or necessary.”

“But now?”

“Now...” I search for the truth beneath years of tactical thinking. “Now I find myself considering a lot of things that once seemed impossible.”

Her smile hits me like a physical thing, transforming her face in ways that still catch me off guard after all this time. “Careful, Commander. That almost sounds like sentimentality.”

“Must be your influence,” I counter, returning her smile. “You and the rest of this impossible pack.”

She moves closer, ostensibly to check my installation work, but her proximity sends her scent washing over me more intensely. I breathe in the familiar scent of her—beta base, but sweetened with that omega undercurrent. Our little hybrid wildcard.

“Looks good,” she says, but she doesn’t move away. Instead, her fingers trace the edge of the control panel, brushing against mine in the process. “Almost done.”

The contact, brief as it is, sends a current of awareness through our bond. Her pulse jumps, the reaction visible at the base of her throat where her claiming marks stand out against pale skin.

“Cayenne.” Her name comes out rougher than I intended, desire thickening my voice.

Her eyes meet mine, green irises darkened with something that mirrors what’s building in my blood. “Ryker.”

I’m not sure who moves first. There’s just her body suddenly against mine, my hands in her hair, her mouth finding mine with hungry precision. The kiss ignites something primal in me, my instincts responding to her hybrid designation with an intensity that still catches me by surprise.

She tastes like coffee and citrus and challenge, her mouth both yielding and demanding against mine. Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer as her body arches into the contact.

The connection between us flares hot and bright, carrying emotions that burn through my veins—want, need, mine.

I back her against the control console, lifting her onto its edge without breaking the kiss. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me into the cradle of her thighs with demanding pressure. Even through layers of clothing, I can feel the heat of her, the way her body responds to mine with perfect recognition.

“This wasn’t on the installation schedule,” I murmur against her throat, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below her ear that always makes her gasp.

“I’m an improvisational genius,” she manages, her head falling back to give me better access. “Besides, all work and no play makes Ryker a dull alpha.”

I laugh against her skin, the sound turning to a growl when her hands slip beneath my shirt, nails scraping lightly down my back. “Dull is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

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