Page 117 of Reckless: Corruption

Mona’s eyes widen with something like respect. “Very pack-adjacent thinking. Much tactical consideration.”

We reach the motorcycle just as the first tactical team members emerge from the tunnel. I throw my leg over the seat, yanking Mona up behind me.

“Hold the case with one hand, me with the other,” I instruct, kickstarting the engine.

The Ducati roars to life, and I feel Mona’s arm circle my waist, her other clutching our precious cargo. Alexander appears at the tunnel entrance, blood still trickling from where the fire extinguisher connected with his temple, rage transforming his features as he raises his weapon.

I gun the engine, the motorcycle shooting forward as bullets tear into the ground where we were seconds before.

“Evasive patterns recommended,” Mona shouts over the engine. “Sixty-seven percent increased survival probability.”

“I know how to lose a tail,” I yell back, channeling every lesson Jinx ever taught me about motorcycle handling.

We weave through the forest, the sounds of pursuit fading behind us. My mind races with possibilities—the pack is gone, Alexander is in pursuit, and Finn needs the booster in Mona’s case.

“Where to?” I shout over my shoulder.

“Secondary extraction point,” Mona replies. “Backup protocol. Very thorough planning. Much contingency consideration.”

Of course they had a backup plan. They’re Pack Locke, after all—the same people who taught me that running doesn’t always mean escaping. Sometimes it means redirecting. Repositioning. Surviving to fight another day.

“Tell me where,” I say, a different kind of certainty settling in my bones.

As the motorcycle carries us deeper into unfamiliar territory, I realize I’ve crossed some invisible line. Six months ago, I would have gone rogue, cut all connections, disappeared into the digital underground without looking back. But now? Now I’m risking everything to get back to a pack I never asked for, with a sister I never knew I needed.

The fear is still there—sharp and real—but something stronger burns alongside it.

Determination.

The kind that comes from knowing exactly what you’re fighting for.

Chapter 24

Ryker

Momentsearlier

The extraction point becomes a kill box in seconds.

Three tactical teams converge on our position, pinning us down with coordinated fire. I shove Jinx and Theo behind the SUV, Finn’s deadweight dragging against my shoulder as his fever spikes dangerously high.

“Where the hell is Cayenne?” Jinx growls, returning fire around the vehicle’s hood.

“And Mona with that fucking booster,” I add, checking Finn’s pulse. Too fast, too thready. His skin burns against my fingers despite the cool evening air, the virus ravaging him with renewed intensity since we left the mansion.

Theo whimpers beside me, the sound carrying something primal and desperate. The scent hits me a moment later—dark vanilla deepening into something that makes my blood burn. Full heat, triggered by extreme stress.

“Not now,” I mutter, as if biology gives a damn about tactical situations.

“Can’t... help it,” Theo pants, sweat beading across his forehead as he fights to maintain control. “Suppressants... failing completely.”

Perfect fucking timing. A critical pack member down with virus complications, our omega hitting unexpected heat, and Sterling’s forces closing in from three sides. This is what command really means—making impossible choices with incomplete information and hoping your people survive the consequences.

“Change of plans,” I bark, pulling out my secondary weapon and passing it to Theo. Despite his heat symptoms, his hands remain steady. Good. “Jinx, we need an exit strategy. Now.”

Jinx’s eyes gleam with feral purpose. “East corridor has weakest coverage. Six men, standard tactical formation.”

“Jinx leads, I follow with Finn. Theo, you’re our rear guard.” I assess each of them—Jinx vibrating with barely contained violence, Theo fighting both heat and fear, Finn’s consciousness fading in and out. “We move fast, we move quiet, and we don’t stop until we hit the secondary location.”

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