Page 90 of Reckless Consequences

“You’re offering her a job?” The possibility hadn’t occurred to me.

“More like institutional affiliation with laboratory access,” Aria clarifies. “Her methods are... unorthodox, but her results speak for themselves.”

“And with access to your equipment, she might be able to help others affected by Sterling’s formulas,” I say, thinking of all the test subjects still being treated.

Across the room, Mona is gesturing wildly as she explains to Ginger what appears to be the mathematically perfect way to toast a marshmallow.

“Have you discussed it with her yet?” I ask.

“Preliminarily. I wanted your thoughts first.”

The consideration warms me unexpectedly. “She’d drive your research team absolutely insane,” I warn, a smile tugging at my lips. “But they’d make breakthroughs they never dreamed possible.”

“That’s the calculation we made,” Aria agrees.

When we rejoin the group, Ginger is already making her pitch to Mona. “You should stay,” she says, with that direct omega sincerity that bypasses all defenses. “Work with us. Help the omegas you’ve been saving for years.”

Mona freezes mid-gesture, blinking rapidly as she processes this frontal assault of genuine emotion.

“Institutional resources would increase operational efficiency,” she says carefully. “Laboratory access creates significant research enhancement potential.”

“Is that a yes?” Willow presses, her beta directness perfectly complementing Ginger’s enthusiastic support in a way that reminds me of my own pack’s unlikely dynamics.

“It’s an acknowledgment of statistical advantages,” Mona replies, but something in her expression shifts—consideration rather than automatic calculation.

As the night winds down, I feel a strange sense of accomplishment—not just social gathering survived but worlds beginning to merge. My sister and my friends. My Sterling legacy and my chosen family.

“Your social circle demonstrates remarkable adaptive capacity,” Mona tells me as the others prepare to leave.

I smile, translating the Mona-speak. “They like you. And they want you to stay.”

Her manic energy stills completely—a rare moment of genuine vulnerability. “Institutional affiliation creates logistical complications,” she says. “California property maintenance. Pack relocation coordination.”

“We could have multiple bases,” I suggest, the solution forming naturally. “California for privacy and recovery. Connection here for your research and their resources.”

Her head tilts as she thinks. “Dual operational centers,” she says slowly. “Geographic separation. Strategic redundancy.”

“Is that a yes?”

A tiny, genuine smile breaks through. “It’s an acknowledgment of statistical advantages.”

“It’s also our best chance to help all the others affected by Sterling’s work,” I add softly.

Something almost gentle crosses her face. “Advanced equipment would improve treatment efficacy,” she agrees.

“Then it’s decided.”

Later, as I walk the others to their quarters, I feel strangely light despite everything still hanging over us.

“Your sister is something else,” Aria says with newfound respect.

“She grows on you,” I repeat.

“Like particularly brilliant fungus,” Willow agrees with a grin.

Ginger loops her arm through mine, her intuition cutting straight to the heart of things. “She’s been fighting alone for so long,” she says softly. “Pretending to be something she’s not.”

The observation resonates through my pack bonds—a pattern we all recognize from our own journeys.

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