Page 1 of Reckless: Chaos

Chapter 1

Cayenne

I. Missed.This.

The electric buzz under my skin makes my fingers dance, still feeling phantom keystrokes. Power courses through my veins like liquid lightning, every successful hack, every bypassed security measure adding to the high. This is what I was born for—the dance between systems, the pure artistry of digital warfare.

This freedom. This control.

It’s not just intoxicating—it’s a full-body rush that makes every nerve ending sing. Makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Makes me want to touch and be touched, to channel this energy into something physical, something real.

Makes me want to fuck.

The thought hits with the same intensity as a successful system breach, and I find myself studying Theo’s profile as he navigates the winding roads back to the mansion. The omega moves with fluid grace even behind the wheel, all artistic control and hidden power. The mission high makes everything sharper, more intense—the subtle flex of his fingers on the steering wheel, the way his throat moves when he swallows.

“I can smell you.” Theo’s sideways glance carries heat beneath the amusement, his usual artistic flow taking on a predatory edge.

“I should be offended,” I shift in my seat, letting the post-mission adrenaline wash through me, “but lucky for you, I’m riding too high to care. You try maintaining composure after dancing circles around corporate security.”

He snorts, but there’s understanding in it. After all, he knows about performance highs. About the rush of playing your audience just right. “I’m so glad Finn wants to take you out.”

The laughter bubbles up, genuine and loose. “Oh, I’ve heard about Finn’s idea of a good time. All that calculated precision?” A shiver runs through me that’s only partly theatrical. “He terrifies me a little.”

“He should.” Theo’s wink sets my blood on fire, mission high amplifying every subtle interaction. The car rolls to a stop, and something in his expression shifts, becomes softer. More omega. “Ryker wants to debrief, and then if you want...”

The blush that creeps across his cheeks shouldn’t be as adorable as it is, especially not on someone who can command attention like he does on stage. But it sparks something warm in my chest, something that has nothing to do with adrenaline and everything to do with connection.

“If I want...?” I prompt, those warm butterflies in my stomach having nothing to do with the mission high and everything to do with the way he’s looking at me—part predator, part artist, all invitation.

“Would you stay with me tonight?” The words rush out like he’s afraid they’ll get stuck if he says them slower. “Listen, we don’t have to do anything. I was thinking cuddling and a movie, maybe some pillow talk.”

“You are such an omega, and I love it.” The confession slips out before I can catch it, raw and honest in a way the adrenalinemakes possible. I lean over, pressing my lips to his cheek, catching the scent of night-blooming jasmine and ancient sheet music that is uniquely him. “I’d love to.”

His relieved sigh carries layers—pleasure at my acceptance, anxiety about what’s to come. “Let’s debrief with Ryker first, and then you tell me if you still want to come.”

He starts to climb out of the car, letting that statement hang ominous in the air between us.

“Um, excuse me?” I scramble after him, mission high giving way to a tendril of dread. “That sounds ominous as fuck.”

The look he throws over his shoulder shouldn’t be legal—all dark promise and omega allure wrapped in something that screams danger. It’s a reminder that for all his artistic soul, he’s still pack. Still predator.

The others are already here, having taken the direct route while we had to double back through PCA headquarters. The mansion looms ahead, and for the first time since the mission started, I feel the weight of what I’ve done. What I tried to do.

What I failed to get.

But the rush is still there, making me skip into the mansion like I don’t have secrets burning holes in my conscience. Like I didn’t just try to hack deeper than our mission parameters allowed. Like I don’t have a USB drive hidden somewhere in this house that could change everything.

I kick the door closed behind us, the familiar action striking a discordant note. When did this place start feeling like home? When did these predators start feeling like family?

The thought sobers me as I head toward the back office where I know they’re waiting. As I enter, it’s like walking into a wall of tension. The mission high crashes, reality rushing in to fill the void.

Theo moves to a chair, concern etched in features that were playful moments ago.

Finn looks up from his iPad, those soulful eyes carrying too much knowledge behind his glasses.

Jinx radiates barely contained violence, already changed into dark sweats and a hoodie, his baseball cap pulled low over eyes that see too much.

And Ryker...

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