Page 20 of Reckless: Chaos

He grabs the key again, holding it up like an offering. “It’s my mansion.” Sadness colors his voice. “I love my pack. I do. But there are some secrets even I keep from them.”

He tugs me into the walk-in closet that the pack has been slowly filling with clothes—their way of marking me as theirs without saying it. I’m about to make a joke about omega seduction techniques when he pushes aside hangers to reveal what looks like a breaker box.

Except it’s not.

“Stop it.” My jaw hits the floor as he flips it open to reveal a panel of buttons. “That’s some 007 bullshit.”

His laugh echoes as he presses one, and the back wall—the one I’ve been staring at for two weeks—slides open like every spy movie cliché come to life. A soft light illuminates stone steps leading down into darkness.

“If you’d known that was there...” He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t have to.

“I’d have been gone that first week,” I admit, following him down the steps. “Fair enough. But why keep this from Ryker?”

His hand finds mine in the growing darkness, warm and sure. Light flares as he triggers wall-mounted torches, turning what should be an ominous tunnel into something almost beautiful.

“I wish I could tell you.” His voice carries notes of old pain. “You’re the only one who knows.”

“I wish I felt honored by that.” Because I don’t. It feels heavy, this secret. Important in ways I’m not sure I’m ready for.

His fingers squeeze mine. “I don’t sneak out often. Because it is dangerous. I’ve seen how dangerous it is, and right now...” He trails off, but I hear what he’s not saying. Right now, with someone hunting me, with Sterling Labs in play, everything is more dangerous.

“You only sneak out when an omega needs you.” The realization settles like lead in my stomach.

“That’s why I told you.” The torchlight catches his face, highlighting planes and shadows that make him look older. Harder. “I suspect Ryker suspects. But he’s never said anything.”

“He loves you.”

“I love him too.” Simple truth, complicated implications. “But the man is overprotective to a fault. I wasn’t made to exist locked up.” Righteousness floods his voice, reminding me that for all his artistic soul, Theo has steel in his spine.

The tunnel stretches ahead, our footsteps echoing off stone walls that probably have stories of their own to tell. Stories of omegas fleeing in the night, of sanctuary sought and found.

“Almost halfway there,” he says as wind whips around us, carrying the promise of freedom. “Then I have a car stashed.”

“You and Finn both.” I can’t help but laugh, even as something clicks into place. “You all work so well together, but there are pieces you keep from each other. Parts you hold back.”

“Observant little minx.” His smile carries shadows and light both. “That’s why we need you.”

“No pressure or anything.” But my chest feels tight with the trust he’s placing in me. With the weight of secrets I’m still keeping myself.

The car appears at the top of a small hill, white rag hanging from the window like a surrender flag. It’s almost poetic—this secret lifeline masquerading as something broken down and abandoned.

“You know,” I say as Theo opens the creaky door for me, “most omegas would have an alpha escort for this kind of mission.”

His smile carries edges. “Most omegas aren’t me.” He slides into the driver’s seat with that artistic grace that makes everything look like a performance. “Besides, I have you.”

The simple trust in those words hits harder than it should. Because he’s right—I might be just a beta, but I’d tear apart anyone who tried to hurt him. The realization should terrify me, this bone-deep protectiveness I’m developing for all of them.

“Tell me about the omega,” I prompt as we pull away, trying to focus on the immediate problem rather than the growing complexity of pack bonds I’m not supposed to feel.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “They didn’t say much. Just that she was scared. Meek.” His voice catches. “Bloody.”

The word drops like a stone into my stomach, dragging up memories I’ve tried to bury. Aria, collapsed on my doorstep in the rain. The way her blood had turned the puddles pink. How small she’d looked in that hospital bed.

Theo’s hand finds mine across the console, like he can sense where my thoughts have gone. “Hey. We’re going to help her. Like you helped Aria.”

“You know about that?”

“Finn has files.” His thumb traces circles on my palm. “Plus, you get this look sometimes. When omegas are mentioned. Like you’re seeing ghosts.”

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