Page 74 of Reckless: Corruption

Jinx looks between us, expression caught between jealousy and fascination. “That explains the mixed scents.”

My cheeks burn hotter than even pre-heat can explain, but Cayenne stands tall beside me, unashamed. I find myself envying her composure, her ability to face scrutiny without shrinking.

Before conversation derails further, I press the data drive into Mona’s hand. “Roman knows you sabotaged his virus. He’s brought in Whitmore to fix it.”

Her usual manic energy vanishes instantly, expression going completely blank like blue screen of death. “Whitmore,” she repeats, name falling like terminal diagnosis. “You’re certain?”

“Elena Davis confirmed it,” Cayenne says, earlier lightheartedness evaporating. “And the virus is already showing higher mortality rates.”

Mona’s fingers close around drive, knuckles whitening. For a moment, I glimpse person beneath chaos—brilliant scientist who’s been fighting her father’s plans for years, suddenly faced with catastrophic setback. Her mask drops completely, revealing woman who’s been playing dangerous game against opponent with infinitely more resources.

“Then we’re running out of time,” she says, whimsy evaporating. “The new formula will be exponentially more lethal.” Her eyes meet Cayenne’s with clarity I’ve rarely seen in her chaotic gaze. “We need to accelerate vaccine development.”

“Whatever you need,” Ryker promises, alpha authority carrying weight of absolute commitment. His attention divides between this new threat and my condition, protective instincts clearly at war as he steps closer to me, hand finding small of my back in silent support.

Mona nods once, already turning toward her makeshift lab, drive clutched like lifeline. “I’ll need more test subjects. Voluntary ones.” She glances at Cayenne. “And your changing pheromones suggest virus is progressing faster than predicted. We should monitor that.”

“Let’s get inside,” Ryker urges, arm sliding around my waist as his alpha senses register my increasing heat despite Mona’s suppressant. His touch is both comfort and torment, skin contact sending fresh waves of need through my system.

As we move toward house, my skin burns hotter, pre-heat symptoms intensifying despite all attempts at control. Ryker’s arm steadies me, but even his familiar touch becomes both comfort and torment—each point of contact igniting flash fires under my skin.

Yet despite biological imperative consuming me from inside out, I can’t forget Elena’s grave expression, the data drive heavy with implications. Roman Sterling has escalated his plans, fixing what Mona sabotaged. Now we’re racing against biological apocalypse, my personal struggle with heat just one movement in much larger, darker symphony.

I press closer to Ryker, drawing strength from his solid presence. “We’ll stop this,” I whisper, as much to convince myself as him. “Whatever it takes.”

Because one way or another, this ends now. Not just for us, but for every beta caught in Sterling’s crosshairs—including our own.

Chapter 16

Cayenne

Something heavy landson my bed, yanking me from dreams of binary code waterfalls and half-remembered pain.

The mattress dips beneath the unmistakable presence of authority—that particular blend of confidence and calculated power that’s uniquely Ryker.

“Rise and shine, sunshine. Mona says you need your vitamins.” His voice slices through my sleep-fog like a military-grade firewall, precise and unyielding.

I burrow deeper into my blanket cocoon, the digital clock’s red numbers mocking me from the nightstand. “It’s 5 AM. That’s not sunrise, that’s a criminal offense.”

“And yet.” The weight shifts as he moves closer, body radiating heat through my fortress of blankets. “Up.”

With the deliberate slowness of a DDoS attack, I emerge from my nest, hair a tangled disaster and eyes narrowed to slits. Ryker sits at the edge of my bed looking infuriatingly perfect—fresh-showered and alert, tactical pants and fitted tee outlining muscles that have no business existing at this ungodly hour.

“I hate morning people,” I inform him, voice rough with sleep. “It’s unnatural. Like drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. Or using Internet Explorer voluntarily.”

His lips quirk, the closest he comes to smiling most days. “Noted.” He holds up a syringe filled with something unsettlingly purple, like a potion from a sci-fi horror movie. “Mona’s latest cocktail. According to her, it’s efficient immune support with significant nutritional value.” His tone shifts to dry amusement. “She also mentioned it probably won’t turn your urine blue. Probably.”

“Comforting.” I eye the syringe with healthy suspicion. My sister’s scientific genius is matched only by her casual disregard for minor details like side effects. “Any other warnings I should know about?”

“She said if you start to taste colors, it’s working.”

“That’s not at all reassuring.” I glance toward the ceiling, wondering how Theo’s doing with his heat suppressants. “How’s everyone else this morning? Theo still managing with Mona’s injection?”

Something softens briefly in Ryker’s expression, like a firewall momentarily dropping. “He’s stable. The suppressant is working better than expected, though he was restless most of the night. Finn checked on him around 3 AM.”

The concern in his voice is evident—not just duty but genuine care. It reminds me that I’m not the only node in his network, not the center of his system but part of a carefully balanced architecture he maintains.

“And Finn? His recovery?”

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