Page 18 of Reckless: Collision

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.” Cayenne plants her hands on the table, leaning forward. “Who exactly taught you how to ghost your IP address? Because I distinctly remember someone crying over their keyboard at three AM?—”

“That was one time?—”

“Four times. I have screenshots.”

“Which you wouldn’t have if we took your devices,” Willow interjects smoothly. “Quinn can trace the threat if you’d just step back and let him work.”

Cayenne’s laugh is sharp enough to cut. “Let him work? You want me to hand over my equipment to someone who once accidentally encrypted his own coffee maker?”

That’s when I notice it. The shift in the air. The familiar scent that’s been tickling at the edge of my awareness since she walked in.

My eyes snap to the doorway. Jinx leans against the doorframe, fingers drumming that distinct three-tap pattern against his bicep, head tilted at the exact angle that means he’s cataloging weaknesses. The predatory stillness of his posture tells me he’s been there the whole damn time, absorbing everything.

Which means...

I inhale deeply, pushing past the lavender. There it is. Jinx’s scent, all cherry tobacco and gunpowder, clinging to the beta’s skin. Fresh. Intimate. But underneath that... fuck. Her true scent burns through everything else—lemon and ozone and something that calls to parts of me I thought I’d buried years ago. The same something that must have driven Jinx to claim her so quickly.

My hands clench as understanding hits. She’s not just any beta. She’sours. And Jinx, the unstable bastard, figured it out first.

My alpha instincts roar to life. Not just because my pack member went rogue. Not just because he’s been here the whole time, watching. But because he’s touched her. Recently. Thoroughly.

Jinx’s eyes meet mine across the room. There’s a challenge in them. A darkness. A claim.

Well, fuck.

The room stinks of alpha challenge, cherry tobacco, and beta defiance. I grip the edge of the table, wood creaking under my fingers. My second-in-command, my supposedly unstable alpha, fucked our new assignment in a bathroom like some kind of?—

“Enough.” Malachi’s voice cuts through the tension. “Everyone sit down. Now.”

Jinx slinks into the room, taking the empty chair beside me. Cayenne’s scent grows stronger with his proximity, and my jaw clenches so hard I taste blood. This isn’t just a complication. This is a tactical nightmare wrapped in unicorn pajamas and sprinkled with my alpha’s claiming scent.

“Here’s how this is going to play out.” Malachi’s tone leaves no room for argument. He meets my eyes like he knows exactly what kind of bomb he’s dropping in my lap. “Pack Locke, you have two options. Accept this protection detail, pass our evaluation period, and return to active status. Or refuse and remain on probation indefinitely.”

“You can’t be serious—” Cayenne starts.

“As for you,” Malachi continues, “you’ve lost your choice in the matter.”

“Like hell I have!”

Willow clears her throat. “Actually, Cayenne, you have. As of this morning, your access to the Omega Guardian building has been permanently revoked.”

The color drains from Cayenne’s face. It’s the first crack I’ve seen in her armor, and something in me wants to snarl at everyone in the room for putting that look there. I shove the instinct down. Hard.

“You can’t?—”

“You endangered thirty-seven omegas.” Willow’s voice is soft but final. “The shooters knew exactly where to find you because you usedoursecure systems to run your hack. You compromised our safety protocols. You brought violenceinto a sanctuary.” She takes a breath. “You’re out. Effective immediately.”

Ginger clears her throat. “The press is already asking questions. An attack on an omega sanctuary? We need to control this narrative before it spirals.”

“I was trying to help?—”

“By getting our residents killed?” Willow’s voice turns to ice, our friendship fracturing under the weight of betrayal. “You brought armed killers into a sanctuary. Do you understand what could have happened? What almost—” She cuts herself off, hands shaking. “Your things have already been packed. You have nowhere else to go that they can’t find you. So yes, you’re getting protection. And you’re getting it from the only pack crazy enough to take on your mess.”

Silence fills the room like a living thing. I watch Cayenne’s shoulders shake—with rage or fear, I can’t tell. Maybe both. Her fingers curl into fists on the table, knuckles white with tension. She’s backed into a corner, and everything about her screams that she’s about to do something stupid.

“Fine.” The word sounds like it’s been ripped from her throat. “Where exactly am I supposed to go?”

“Pack house,” I say, the words tasting like ash. “Secured location, defensible position, full surveillance.” I lock eyes with Jinx, letting him see every ounce of alpha fury I’m holding back. “Complete protection.”

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