Page 37 of Reckless Consequences

“Doesn’t matter.” His hand finds the claiming mark he left, thumb brushing over it with possessive satisfaction. “Separation is separation. Especially with new bonds.”

When we finally step into the cabin, the transformation of the space stops me in my tracks. Finn has converted the main table into a command center—maps spread out with military precision, colored markers indicating what must be Sterling facilities, strings connecting related locations. His laptop hums in the center, surrounded by notebooks filled with his neat, precise handwriting.

And the smell—God, the smell. Despite our previous lack of supplies, Theo has somehow managed to fill the air with the rich aroma of herbs and spices. Something that might be stew simmers on the stove, and freshly baked bread cools on the counter.

But it’s Finn who captures my attention completely. He stands by the table, color returned to his face, shadows still visible beneath his eyes but significantly lighter than before. His hair is damp, as if he’s recently showered, curling slightly at the temples in a way that makes my fingers itch to touch it.

His eyes find mine, and the pack bond between us pulses with immediate recognition.

They move toward us as we enter, helping unload supplies with synchronized efficiency. But their eyes find my claiming marks, visible now that I’ve removed the scarf, and something warm pulses through the bonds—satisfaction, possession, connection.

Jinx casually brushes against my shoulder as he takes a heavy bag, the contact leaving a trace of his scent on me—an unconscious claiming behavior he doesn’t even seem aware of. Theo arranges the kitchen items so my favorite coffee mug is positioned front and center, a subtle designation of my space. Finn has cleared a specific spot at his planning table, perfectly positioned for my laptop and within arm’s reach of his own workstation.

My body responds with immediate relief, the strange hollow feeling completely vanishing as I cross the threshold into pack territory, replaced by a fullness that feels like coming home.

“You’re back,” Finn says, the simple statement heavy with relief. His gaze sweeps over me, cataloging every detail with that quick, precise way he has. He steps forward, then hesitates, uncharacteristic uncertainty crossing his face.

I close the distance between us without thinking, my arms going around his waist. He stiffens momentarily—Finn’s never been the most physically demonstrative—before his arms encircle me, pulling me closer.

“You still smell like illness,” I murmur against his chest, the lingering traces of fever and medication clinging to his skin beneath the clean soap scent.

“Getting better,” he assures me, his chin resting atop my head. “The booster is working. But you...” He pulls back enough to study my face, fingers gently tilting my chin up. “Something happened in town.”

Not a question. He always could read me too well.

“Sterling’s transformation is happening faster than we anticipated,” Ryker explains, setting the last of the supplies on the counter. “Testing centers in major cities, cases even in small towns.”

“They had three cases here already,” I add, reluctantly stepping away from Finn to unpack groceries. Theo appears at my side, helping organize the items with practiced efficiency. “One died. The others...” I hesitate, remembering the cashier’s description. “They changed. Scent alterations. Behavioral shifts.”

“Designation modification,” Finn concludes, the scientist in him momentarily overriding emotion. “Phase one of Sterling’s plan.”

“But there may be resistance forming.” I pull the flyer from my pocket, handing it to Finn. “The Beta cashier slipped me this. She’s noticed the pattern—the recovery rates not matching documentation, the scent changes.”

Theo’s hand finds mine as he examines the vegetables I’ve unpacked, his fingers intertwining with mine. The contact sends a pulse of Omega comfort through our bond, steady and grounding. “Then we move faster,” he says simply. “Together.”

“There’s more.” I squeeze his hand in thanks before releasing it to continue unpacking. “The cashier recognized my status immediately. The mixed designation bonds, the claiming marks—she knew exactly what she was looking at. And she wasn’t afraid or disgusted. She was... protective.”

Jinx materializes beside me, relieving me of a particularly heavy bag with casual strength. His nostrils flare as he catches my full scent up close, a deep inhalation that ends with a satisfied rumble deep in his chest. The sound makes my skin warm.

“Town security?” he asks, all business despite the possessive gleam in his eyes.

“Minimal,” Ryker answers, already sorting the tactical supplies he purchased. “Standard police presence, no obvious Sterling surveillance.”

“Good fallback location if needed,” Jinx concludes, but his attention remains on me. His hand brushes my hip as he moves past, the touch brief but deliberate. Marking. Claiming.

“You look better,” I tell Finn, returning to his side at the planning table. My fingers skim over the maps he’s arranged, recognizing the methodical organization that’s uniquely him. “Much better.”

“Getting there.” He gestures to the mapped facilities. “I’ve been cross-referencing known Sterling locations with your data from the Aurora Facility. There’s a pattern forming.”

His excitement is contagious—this is Finn in his element, finding order in chaos. The shadows of illness haven’t completely left his face, but the sharp intelligence in his eyes is fully returned, his mind clearly working at full capacity again.

I lean closer, my shoulder brushing his, and feel him lean subtly into the contact rather than away from it—another small change that the bonds have created between us.

As we settle into preparing dinner together—Theo directing culinary operations with artistic flair—I observe the dynamics of this strange, beautiful pack I’ve somehow joined. Finn measuring ingredients with precision. Jinx channeling destructive impulses into perfectly chopped vegetables. Ryker providing quiet, steadying presence.

Each offering their unique strengths to create something greater together.

“What?” Theo asks, catching my observation.

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