Page 61 of Reckless Consequences

Theo’s hand finds mine, vanilla scent strengthening as he reads my building feral response. Unlike Ryker’s alpha command, Theo’s omega influence feels like cool water on burning skin—not weakening me but directing my strength. His fingers curl around mine, squeezing once in our established pattern—our silent contract between omega and fractured alpha.

“No.” Ryker’s command comes sharp and certain, cedar scent rising with authority. “Too risky. They’re moving toward us. Trust them.”

Trust doesn’t come naturally to me—except with pack. And even then, I prefer action over patience. But he’s right. Splitting up further creates more risk. The beast inside me paces, but I leash it with effort—Cayenne’s influence again, teaching me that sometimes chaos can wait.

The facility shudders again, violently this time. Warning alarms blare through the corridors, emergency lights bathing everything in blood-red.

I push through our bond to Cayenne.Come to us. We’re here.The bond pulses hard, my body locked to hers across the distance—heart racing, muscles tight. My scent pushes out, marking a path for her to follow.

Our charges will detonate in less than four minutes. The window for clean escape narrows with each second. Sweat runs down my spine, not from effort but from the strain of staying still when every instinct screams to move, to hunt, to find.

Theo’s hand finds mine, omega instinct seeing what I need. His scent shifts—vanilla sweetening with comfort. His touch calms without making me weak. He should be focused on Ryker’s injury, but he knows my control is hanging by a thread too. “They’ll make it.”

I nod, trust fighting instinct. The beast inside me paces, demanding action, protection, violence. But I hold position, trusting pack bonds over feral need. My body stays ready—muscles primed, senses sharp—but I don’t move.

The facility trembles with growing instability—not just our charges, but systems failing throughout. Mona’s work, spreading like beautiful contagion through Sterling’s perfect creation.

Three minutes.

Quinn approaches, face grim. “We need to move. Now.”

“Not without them,” I growl, barely human. My scent spikes with warning despite the neutralizer—claiming territory and refusing to abandon pack. My posture shifts automatically—shoulders back, chest expanded, chin lowered with direct eye contact. Not aggression but absolute refusal to yield.

“Two more minutes,” Ryker decides, voice allowing no argument. His cedar scent spikes briefly with authority before settling. “Then we evacuate.”

Two minutes to reunite our pack. Two minutes before Sterling’s temple to twisted science begins to collapse under precision charges.

The beast inside me slams against its cage, demanding release. My skin prickles, muscles coiling tight. The feral instinct that once ruled me now tests the boundaries I’ve built. I breathe through it, focusing on pack bonds—Theo’s nurturing warmth, Ryker’s steady command, Finn’s quiet precision, Cayenne’s brilliant chaos. Four points that give my destruction purpose.

One minute. Fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-eight.

The anticipation builds in my blood, a countdown more accurate than any timer. When our first charge detonates, it will send shockwaves through the facility, failing exactly as planned. My pulse speeds up with the countdown—body preparing for what comes next.

The bond snaps awake. Cayenne’s close. I feel her like a jolt to my spine. My body moves before my brain—head turning, nostrils flaring, muscles tight. I step forward without thinking. My pulse kicks hard.

Her bright chaos crashes through first, wild and alive... and then Finn follows, steady and sharp, like a lock clicking into place. Their scents reach me before I see them—Cayenne’s lemon-ozone carrying something new, something almost omega-like that makes my alpha senses spark with confusion and interest.

They’re almost here. I feel it in my bones.

As the facility groans around us, beginning its transformation from marvel to ruin, I feel something settle inside me—my chaos aligning into something like harmony. The beast that once felt like curse now feels like nature. Not something to cage, but something to channel. My throat rumbles with sound—not warning but welcome, calling pack home.

Forty seconds. Thirty-nine. Thirty-eight.

The truth crystallizes with perfect clarity—this is what I was made for. Not mindless destruction, but precise dismantling of what threatens what’s mine. My alpha nature not a program but a purpose.

Chaos, unleashed with purpose.

Chapter15

Cayenne

Alexander’s maintenanceshaft dumps us into a narrow service corridor bathed in pulsing red emergency lights. The facility’s alarm wails like a siren, drilling into my skull. Behind us, the central lab door seals shut, Alexander facing our father alone. My blood feels electric, like Sterling’s DNA recognizes where it came from.

“Keep moving,” Finn says, voice steady despite the tremor I can feel through our bond. The virus hits him harder under stress, though he’s trying to hide it. His scent cuts through the neutralizer—earl grey tea with sharp edges.

We navigate the industrial maze, making split-second decisions at every turn. The matryoshka doll USB weighs heavy in my pocket—containing the original enhancement protocol without Sterling’s weaponized modifications. The carved binary pattern feels warm against my fingertips.

A distant rumble shakes the floor—the first sign of Jinx’s handiwork. Somewhere in this massive complex, our pack is finishing their mission, bringing Sterling’s empire down. Through our bond, I feel them—Jinx’s controlled violence, Ryker’s focused command, Theo’s steady concern—stretched thin but unbroken.

---