Page 44 of Reckless Consequences

“I know.”

“Promise me you’ll follow the plan. No heroics, no lone-wolf stunts.”

I pull back enough to meet his eyes. “Only if you promise the same. No sacrificial Alpha bullshit.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Deal.”

His scent wraps around me like a physical shield. My body responds automatically, claiming marks warming as my own scent rises to meet his—citrus and ozone now carrying notes of cedar.

The cabin kitchen smells of whatever miracle Theo has created from our dwindling supplies. I lean against the doorframe, watching Jinx meticulously clean a handgun at the table while Finn reviews security protocols on his tablet.

Despite his exhaustion, Finn refuses to rest until he’s verified every access code and contingency. When he finally leans back, his strength visibly failing, we move around him without discussion—Theo adjusting pillows while preparing a nutrient-dense plate, Ryker checking his temperature with a casual touch, Jinx shifting closer to share body heat. I find myself measuring Finn’s medications with surprising expertise, my hands steady where his shake.

“You need to eat something,” I tell him, setting the pills beside a glass of water.

He looks up, fatigue etched in the lines around his eyes, but there’s determination there too. “So do you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” He catches my wrist, his touch light but insistent. “You’ve been running on caffeine and adrenaline all day.”

Before I can argue, Theo appears with two plates. “Both of you, eat. Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not actually a doctor,” I point out, but take the plate anyway.

“Close enough,” he counters, watching until I take the first bite.

The food is simple—pasta with herbs and whatever protein Theo managed to scrounge—but it tastes like salvation after hours of planning. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the first bite hits my tongue.

Finn eats slowly, each movement careful. When his hand shakes, Theo steadies his wrist while refilling his water.

“Try to get some rest,” Ryker says, checking his phone one last time. “Tomorrow comes early.”

Finn nods, letting Theo help him up. The fact that he doesn’t protest says everything.

I watch them head down the hallway, worry gnawing at my stomach.

“He’ll be okay,” Jinx says, his voice low. “Finn’s tough.”

“I know.” I sigh. “I just hate this.”

“We all do.” Jinx’s thumb brushes over his claiming mark on my neck. The tension in my shoulders eases instantly. “But we’ve got him.”

The certainty in his voice settles me. This pack of killers and geniuses has become my anchor.

I drift to sleep between warm bodies. Finn’s steady breathing. Theo’s arm draped across him. Ryker’s back to the door. Jinx’s hand resting on my hip.

Tomorrow we face Sterling. Tonight, I’m home.

Chapter11

Ryker

I wake before my alarm,body still running on military time—four hours of sleep after our late-night planning session, maximum efficiency. The cabin’s dark, hours before dawn. But I don’t move, caught in the gravity of our tangled pack.

Theo’s arm drapes across my chest, his face peaceful without suppressants. His dark vanilla scent wraps around us like a cocoon. Jinx curls at Theo’s back, one hand reaching to rest on Finn’s shoulder, cherry tobacco mingling with Theo’s sweetness. And Cayenne nestles against my side, her breath warm on my neck, red hair spilled across my chest, her citrus scent deeper now, pulling at something primal in me.

The contact should make me restless. For years, I’ve slept alone, alert at the slightest sound. Command required isolation—hammered into me through military training and cemented by losing my family. Connection was weakness, attachment liability.

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