Page 23 of Reckless Consequences

“Despite nothing,” Jinx interrupts, his hand finding the spot where my neck meets my shoulder—the place Theo marked and claimed. “You’re ours, Glitch. Designation doesn’t matter.”

“Pack matters,” Ryker agrees, his arms tightening around both me and Theo, creating a circle that incorporates Jinx as well, his hands tracing the bite mark he’s left on the opposite side of my neck. “And you’re pack.”

The contrast between this chosen family and Roman Sterling’s genetic manipulations couldn’t be more stark. While he seeks to control designation through forced biology, we’ve transcended those boundaries through choice and connection. I think briefly of Alexander—stuck between Sterling’s control and whatever remains of his own humanity, never experiencing the freedom of choosing his pack, his family, his destiny.

As Ryker’s knot finally begins to subside, I feel the stirring of Theo’s heat resuming—his skin warming again with fever, his scent intensifying with renewed need. But this time, there’s no fear in his eyes, no desperation to control what cannot be controlled.

Only certainty. Only trust. Only pack.

And for the first time since Roman Sterling turned my world upside down with his virus, I find myself grateful for the changes in my biology—for this unique position between designations that allows me to bridge worlds. The dual claiming marks on my neck throb in tandem, reminding me of my unique place in this unlikely harmony—neither fully beta nor omega nor alpha, but a blend that somehow completes us all.

Let Sterling have his virus and his grand plans for designation control. What we have here—this pack bond woven from choice and biology, vulnerability and strength—is more powerful than any virus could ever be.

I am beta and not-beta, strong in my in-between state, claimed by omega and alpha alike. And when Finn wakes, I will be claimed by him too—our analytical beta, the missing piece in our harmony.

Theo stirs against me, heat symptoms visibly returning as his brief respite ends. Through our bond, I feel Finn’s presence growing stronger, drifting closer to consciousness with each moment. Soon, he’ll wake. Soon, we’ll be complete.

“Ready?” Theo asks, no longer fighting the inevitable.

“Ready,” I confirm, surprised to find I mean it with every fiber of my being.

Chapter7

Cayenne

Dawn breaksthrough the cabin windows, painting the nest in warm light. I blink awake to find myself at the center of a protective cocoon—Theo curled against my chest, his heat-fever temporarily banked; Jinx sprawled behind him, one arm stretched across us both; Ryker maintaining sentinel position at our backs, his body curved around mine even in sleep.

For a moment, I allow myself to simply feel—the steady rise and fall of Theo’s chest against mine, the comforting weight of Jinx’s arm, the solid presence of Ryker guarding our flanks. Pack. Mine. The certainty of it seeps into my bones with unexpected rightness.

Movement draws my attention to the medical area. Finn stirs, eyes fluttering beneath closed lids, his chest rising in a deeper breath than before. The monitors show continued improvement—heart rate steadier, oxygen levels climbing, fever retreating.

My heart lurches. He’s coming back to us.

I carefully extract myself from the tangle of limbs. Theo makes a small sound of protest that tugs at something in my chest as I press a kiss to his forehead. His skin feels cooler, the raging heat-fever of yesterday tempered after multiple waves of release.

“Shh,” I soothe, running my fingers through his dark hair. “I’m just checking on Finn.”

Theo nods without fully waking, instinctively turning into Jinx’s embrace to replace my warmth. The Alphas shift in coordination, maintaining protective positions even as they accommodate the Omega’s movement.

I pull on an oversized t-shirt—Ryker’s, based on the cedar and steel scent that wraps around me as the fabric settles against my skin. The shirt falls to mid-thigh, leaving my marked neck exposed, the claiming bite Theo left throbbing gently with each heartbeat.

My bare feet make no sound against the wood floor as I cross to where Finn lies. His body seems to call to me, the pull growing stronger with each step until I’m standing over him, heart in my throat, hope building inside me.

Up close, the improvement steals my breath—his skin no longer holds that alarming gray tinge, the blue veins beneath now looking healthy. His chest rises and falls in deeper rhythm, each breath a promise of return. I check the monitors, the numbers confirming what my heart already knows—Mona’s booster is working, pulling Finn back from the precipice.

I brush damp hair from his forehead, allowing myself the luxury of touch. “Come back to us,” I whisper, fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw, the stubble on his chin, the little indent of dimples. “Come back to me.”

His eyelids flutter at my touch, a small sound escaping his throat. Then—miracle of miracles—his eyes open, focusing with visible effort until they find mine. The blue of them hits me like a physical blow, so familiar yet somehow new, as if I’m seeing their true color for the first time.

“Cayenne?” His voice emerges rough with disuse, barely louder than a breath, but it’s the sweetest sound I’ve heard in days.

Something breaks open inside me. “Hey, Professor,” I manage, vision blurring with tears I refuse to shed. My fingers tremble against his cheek, needing to confirm he’s real, he’s here, he’s alive. “Welcome back.”

His gaze travels over me, taking in the oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder, the marks visible on my neck and collarbone, the flush I can feel heating my skin under his scrutiny. Understanding fills his eyes, still sharp despite his weakened state.

“Theo’s heat?” he rasps, the words barely audible but perfectly clear. “Did I miss it?”

A laugh bubbles up from inside me, unexpected and bright—so like Finn to wake from near-death and immediately analyze the situation, to cut straight to the core. “Just the first day,” I assure him, my hand finding his where it rests on the sheet. His fingers feel cool beneath mine, but they curl around my hand with surprising strength. “Plenty left for you to experience.”

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