Page 23 of Reckless: Collision

“I’m a city girl. The only wildlife I deal with is pizza rats and indie coffee shop baristas.”

A massive iron gate appears through the trees, and my jaw actually drops. This isn’t some quaint little entrance—this is military-grade security wrapped in aesthetic design. The bars alone must be six inches thick.

“That’s... not very cabin-in-the-woods,” I manage.

Ryker smirks as the gate slides open silently. “Disappointed?”

“More concerned about why you need that level of security in the middle of nowhere.”

“Keeps things in as much as it keeps them out,” Jinx says cryptically.

The driveway curves through the trees, and then?—

“Holy shit.”

Not a cabin. Not even close. The house—no, themansion—rises three stories of modern architecture and glass, somehow both imposing and elegant. The surrounding grounds are immaculately maintained, and I spot at least four security cameras just from this angle.

“Welcome home,” Finn says quietly.

“You let me think—” I sputter. “You absolute bastards.”

“Now, now.” Jinx grins. “We never said it was a cabin.”

“You implied!”

“You assumed,” Ryker corrects, pulling up to the front entrance. “Like you assumed this would be easy to escape from.”

My brain kicks into analysis mode despite my rising indignation. Three visible security cameras covering the entrance, another four disguised as decorative fixtures. Motion sensors hidden in the landscaping. The glass has to be bulletproof, probably with some kind of signal blocking properties given their tech paranoia.

“I hate all of you,” I announce.

“No, you don’t,” Jinx sing-songs. “You like me plenty.”

“I liked your tongue. There’s a difference.”

Ryker actually growls this time, the sound making the whole car vibrate. Finn just sighs and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “not getting paid enough for this.”

The car rolls to a stop in front of massive double doors that probably cost more than my entire apartment’s rent. Before anyone can move, the right door swings open, and?—

Oh.

An omega steps into the doorway, but not like any omega I’ve ever seen. All graceful lines and dark features, dressed in black from head to toe. His hair falls in waves past his shoulders, and I can see the edges of tattoos peeking out from under his oversized sweater.

He leans against the doorframe with casual elegance, bare feet crossed at the ankles, watching our arrival with dark, knowing eyes.

“That’s Theo,” Finn says softly. “Our omega.”

“He’s beautiful,” I breathe, then immediately want to smack myself. Way to sound like every other creep who objectifies omegas.

But Finn just smiles. “He is. And deadly in at least six different ways.”

“Seven,” Jinx corrects proudly. “He learned that thing with the piano wire.”

Theo’s lips curve upward, the expression transforming his features from merely beautiful to dangerously enchanting. The temperature around him seems to shift—not warmer or cooler but somehow more intense, as if the molecules in his vicinity vibrate at a frequency designed to draw others closer. My skin prickles with awareness, the tiny hairs on my arms standing to attention as I realize I might have seriously underestimated what I’m getting myself into.

“Are we going to sit in the car all day,” Theo’s voice carries a hint of Italian accent, “or are you going to introduce me to our new troublemaker?”

Jinx snorts. “Takes one to know one.”

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