Page 35 of Beckett's Fate

The trail opened into a small clearing, the perfect spot to stop and review her map. She crouched near a cluster of rocks, unrolling the worn parchment and tracing her finger along the faded lines and markings. If her calculations were right, the next clue was close.

“I thought I’d find you here,” came a familiar voice, low and steady.

Irene startled, whipping around to find Beck standing at the edge of the clearing, his hands resting casually at his sides. He looked every bit as commanding as he always did, his eyesfixed on her with a mix of exasperation and something softer—something that made her pulse quicken.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

“Checking on you,” he said simply, stepping closer.

“I don’t need checking on,” Irene said, rolling up her map and shoving it into her pack. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“I know you are,” Beck said, his voice calm but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry.”

Her jaw tightened, and she rose to her full height, squaring her shoulders. “I don’t need a babysitter, Beck.”

“I’m not here to babysit,” he countered, his gaze steady. “I’m here because I care. But if you want me to back off, I will.”

The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard. She searched his face, expecting to find a hint of the stubbornness she’d come to associate with him. But instead, she found only understanding—and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like pain.

“You mean that?” she asked cautiously.

“I do,” Beck said. “I’ll respect your independence, Irene. But don’t mistake that for indifference. I’ll still keep an eye on things, one way or another. It’s who I am.”

Irene crossed her arms, her emotions warring within her. She wanted to push him away, to reclaim the space she needed to think clearly. But a part of her—small, but insistent—didn’t want him to leave.

“Fine,” she said finally, her tone clipped. “But don’t expect me to check in or ask for help.”

Beck’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

With that, he turned and began walking back toward the trail, his stride confident and unhurried. Irene watched him go, a strange mix of relief and disappointment settling in her chest.

As he disappeared into the trees, she shook her head.Damn the man. She turned back to her map. She needed to refocus her energy. But even as she plotted her next move, the warmth of Beck’s presence lingered, refusing to be ignored.

As the day wore on, Irene found herself moving deeper into the mountains, the terrain growing more rugged and remote. But no matter how far she went, Beck’s words—and his absence—remained paramount in her mind.

When she paused to catch her breath, she scanned the tree line, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of him in the shadows. The thought made her lips twitch into a faint smile.

He wasn’t following her. Not directly, at least. But she knew him well enough to suspect that he’d made arrangements to keep her in his orbit. And for all her protests, the idea wasn’t as irritating as she wanted it to be.

It was comforting. Damn it.

As the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows across the trail, Irene’s thoughts returned to the treasure—and the man who had complicated her search in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

She tightened the straps of her pack and continued on, her steps full of confidence but her heart uncertain. Whatever lay ahead, she knew one thing for certain: Beck wasn’t done with her.

And, she realized with a jolt of both excitement and trepidation, she wasn’t done with him, either.

13

BECK

Sitting in his office, Beck watched the tiny dust particles illuminated by the sun as they danced in the light. The day had started as uneventfully as most mornings in Silver Falls did—quiet streets, the hum of life stirring in the small town, people going about their business. But Beck’s instincts were on edge, his wolf pacing restlessly within him.

It could be Irene, or it could be something more.

He was sorting through routine paperwork when his phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Knox’s name lit up on the screen. Beck picked up immediately, his tone clipped. “What’s up?”

Knox’s voice came through, low and tense. “We’ve got movement. My men spotted the hunters about thirty minutes ago. They’re grouped up—six of them—and they’re packing more than just rifles. Looks like they’ve got heavier firepower.”

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