Page 47 of Reckless: Corruption

In the distance, I hear the soft metallic scraping of Jinx dismantling something on the roof, followed by his muttered curse as something drops. His restless energy mirrors my own—both of us alphas with no enemy to fight, just an invisible threat we can’t shoot or strangle.

I pause mid-stride, some deeper instinct cutting through my useless rage. The house feels wrong—unbalanced in a way I can’t immediately place. Each pack member registers in my awareness like points on a tactical map: Jinx on the roof, Finn and Cayenne here, and Theo...

Where is Theo?

A spike of fear lances through me, sharp and cold, before logic reasserts itself. Omegas are immune to the virus—Mona had been crystal clear on that point while rolling her eyes at what she called“basic designation biology, very elementary, much scientific consensus.”But that doesn’t explain the wrongness humming through our bond.

I take the stairs two at a time, following the thread of discomfort to the nest. The door stands ajar, spilling warm light into the hallway. What I find inside stops me dead—Theo kneeling in the stripped center of his sanctuary, blankets and sheets piled chaotically around him like the aftermath of some primal battle.

“What are you doing?” I grab a blanket from his white-knuckled grip, the fabric twisting in his hands.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. Just kneels there, eyes closed, breathing shallow.

“Theo?” I toss the blanket aside, moving closer. My hand finds his forehead, and the heat radiating from his skin sends fresh panic coursing through me. “You’re sick.”

He slaps my hand away with surprising force. “I’m not sick.” His words slur slightly as he swipes at his damp forehead. “Pre-heat.”

The moment he says it, I register the scent change—dark vanilla deepening to incense, night-blooming jasmine turning headier, more insistent. My body responds instantly, blood rushing south with enough force to make me light-headed. My knot swells against denim, the sudden pressure almost painful.

“Fuck,” I growl, understanding crashing over me.

“Don’t be mad,” he whispers, still not meeting my eyes.

“Why the hell would I be mad that you’re hitting your heat?” Even as I ask, I catch the sour note in his scent—that particular blend of shame and secret-keeping that makes my alpha instincts sharpen to dangerous points.

“Not for the heat,” he clarifies, head hanging. “For what I’m about to tell you.”

I grip his chin, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Why?” The word comes out rougher than intended.

“I took suppressants.” The confession falls between us like a grenade with the pin half-pulled.

Anger floods my system—hot and sharp and dangerous. I force it down, caging the alpha that wants to roar at the thought of my omega interfering with his natural cycle. Suppressants are risky at best, devastating at worst. And they’re expensive as hell, which means?—

“Why?” I manage, the single word carrying all my fear and fury.

He licks his lips, fever-bright eyes finally meeting mine with that stubborn defiance that first made me fall for him. “I want her with us.”

The words hit harder than any physical blow. Of course. Of fucking course my beautiful, broken omega would risk his health rather than exclude our beta from this most intimate pack bond.

A battle rages inside me—the alpha wanting to claim and protect warring with the leader who needs to oversee a pack in crisis. Theo needs me, but so do Finn and Cayenne. The weight of responsibility crashes against the primal pull of my omega’s need.

“I can’t go into heat without her,” he continues, voice strengthening with conviction. “So I called Aria.”

“Cayenne’s friend with the pink hair.” I sink back on my heels, running a hand down my face. “Theo?—”

“I know, alright!” The words burst out of him. “I know it was reckless. I know you’re angry. But I just...” His composer cracks, that perfect artist’s control fracturing to reveal the raw need beneath. “I need to hold it off just a little while.”

“When did you take them?” My tone turns clinical, assessing damage rather than assigning blame.

“Half hour ago.”

I exhale slowly. “Do you think we should have Mona check them?” The idea of inviting our chaos agent into this feels wrong, but if anyone would understand the chemical composition of illegal suppressants, it would be Sterling’s rebellious omega daughter.

“No.” He shakes his head vehemently. “I thought about going to her first, but I need her focused on curing them.”

Of course he would prioritize that. My selfless omega, always putting others before himself, even when he’s burning from the inside out.

“What are you doing with the sheets?” I ask more gently, gesturing to the chaos around us.

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