Page 48 of Reckless Consequences

As he moves away to prepare, Cayenne’s fingers find mine, squeezing once. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.” And surprisingly, I do. Not because I trust his control, but because I trust our connection.

We watch in silence as Jinx approaches the facility perimeter, timing his movements to coincide with camera blind spots Finn identified.

Cayenne presses against my side, her warmth countering the morning chill. “What will we do if this doesn’t work?”

“Adapt.” My hand finds hers, fingers interlacing with instinctive certainty. “There’s always another approach.”

The contact grounds me in ways tactical training never prepared me for. Her touch contains multitudes—strength and vulnerability, chaos and precision. The contradictions that make her essential, not just to the mission but to what we’ve become.

Before the pack, my contingency planning was cold, mathematical—probability assessments separate from emotional investment. Now every alternative path carries the weight of lives I cannot lose, connections I refuse to sacrifice.

The bond flares suddenly—Jinx making contact. Tension flows through our connection, then shifts. Information. Opportunity.

Twenty-three minutes later, he returns with intelligence that changes everything.

“Guard’s name is Marcus. Has a Beta sister inside—part of Sterling’s research program.” Jinx’s report comes in clipped phrases as we gather. “Shipment arriving tonight. Security protocols temporarily suspended during delivery window.”

Finn’s mind immediately engages. “Reduced security means approximately sixty-three percent improved chance of success if Quinn’s PCA teams maintain their positions.”

“But limited preparation time,” Theo counters, concern evident in his expression.

“And I coordinate with Mona from Omega Guardians afterward,” Finn adds. “She’s monitoring the blocker effectiveness while providing remote system support.”

“I still think you’re taking unnecessary risks,” I tell Finn, the concern I tried to mask last night resurfacing. “Your recovery isn’t complete.”

“I’m stable enough,” he counters, meeting my gaze directly. “Cayenne will need me to analyze the database architecture while she extracts the data. The server room infiltration needs both of us.”

I want to argue, but his logic is sound. And more importantly, I respect his choice. Six months ago, I would have simply ordered him to safety. Now I recognize the Beta determination that makes him as essential to this pack as any Alpha.

“Stay close to Cayenne,” I concede finally. “Maintain contact at all times.”

“Marcus will disable the northeast security subsection.” Jinx continues. “Provides eleven-minute window before system redundancies activate.”

I feel each pack member processing implications—flickers of thought clearer than yesterday, the bond communication strengthening with practice. Finn calculating probabilities, Theo weighing pack safety against mission necessity, Jinx focused but controlled, Cayenne already mapping infiltration paths.

The weight of command has never felt heavier, nor more certain. Five lives hang on my decision. Everything we’ve built together balanced on tactical judgment.

I meet each gaze, feeling the threads between us—not just instinct but something forged through choice and fire and shared purpose.

My pack. My responsibility. My home.

Once, I led through authority—orders issued, compliance expected, distance maintained. Now leadership flows through connection—strength multiplied through trust, capability enhanced through bonds beyond tactical alliance.

Jinx’s eyes find mine last, carrying silent confirmation that he’s ready, controlled, committed. Something has shifted in him since bonding with Cayenne—the chaos still present but channeled, purposeful.

“We move tonight.” My decision ripples through the bond, met with synchronized resolve.

Command isn’t about controlling outcomes. It’s about choosing which risks are worth taking for the people you love.

And this pack—these people—are worth everything.

Chapter12

Cayenne

The cold airnips at my exposed skin as we gather around Ryker’s crude facility map, spread across the hood of the SUV. Dusk hasn’t fully fallen, but the Aurora facility looms in the distance, its industrial silhouette cutting against the darkening sky like a villain’s headquarters.

---