Page 46 of Beckett's Fate

After pulling on their clothes, Irene’s eyes turned to the carvings on the wall, the intricate symbols partially obscured by the damage left behind from the fight. Scorch marks from stray bullets and claw marks marred the surface, obliterating parts of the delicate patterns.

“This…” she murmured, stepping closer to the wall, her voice tight with frustration. “This is the next part of the clue, but some of it’s gone. The fight must’ve destroyed it.”

Beck stepped beside her, his blue eyes scanning the markings with a frown. “Can you make out anything?”

Irene bit her lip, her fingers tracing the faint lines still visible on the wall. “Some of it,” she admitted, “but not enough. It’s like trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing.”

They spent the next several minutes combing the chamber, searching for anything else the fight might have revealed—or hidden. Irene’s hands moved with practiced precision, brushing away dirt and debris, but frustration clawed at her the longer they searched without answers.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she muttered, shaking her head as she crouched near the base of the wall. “We should be closer. The journal—everything—led us here. This has to be it.”

Beck placed a steady hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice calm but resolute.

Irene looked up at him, her chest tight with a mixture of gratitude and anger—anger at herself for feeling so lost, for not being able to see the next step. “What if we’re too late?” she whispered. “What if the hunters already found it, and this was just… what’s left?”

Beck crouched beside her, his expression softening. “Then we’ll find another way,” he said simply. “But I don’t think they’ve found it yet. If they had, they wouldn’t still be sniffing around.”

She nodded, though the knot in her chest didn’t ease.

They continued searching for what felt like hours, the cavern growing colder as the night stretched on. They never encountered a reason for the voices or the sound of the footsteps they’d heard earlier. Irene’s flashlight began to dim, its beam flickering against the walls like a failing heartbeat.

“Let’s call it a day,” Beck said finally, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. “We’re not going to get anywhere like this.”

Reluctantly, Irene nodded, standing and brushing the dirt from her hands. “We’ll come back,” she said, more to herself than to him. “There has to be something we missed.”

Beck didn’t argue, though the tension in his jaw told her he was just as frustrated as she was.

As they made their way out of the cavern, the air grew heavier, and the sense of being watched was like an omniscient presence. She glanced over her shoulder more than once, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her knife.

When they emerged into the open air, the cool breeze was a relief—but it did little to dispel the feeling of unease.

“We need to move,” Beck said, taking her hand and pulling her deeper into the forest.

Irene didn’t argue, her trust in him absolute as they disappeared into the shadows. But as they fled, her mind raced with unanswered questions, her determination burning brighter than ever. They were close—so close—but the treasure, and the danger that surrounded it, remained just out of reach.

And somewhere in the darkness, the hunters were closing in.

17

BECK

They navigated their way back to where Beck’s SUV waited, the wilderness closing around them like a dark embrace. The energy between them was intense, and yet he couldn’t regret anything that had happened. She had capitulated to his dominance with only a token resistance and didn’t seem to be at all bothered by what had happened. In fact, as they’d set off for the SUV, she’d reached for his hand and he’d wrapped his fingers around hers as they walked, an unspoken acceptance of the change in her status.

He glanced at Irene, her jaw set and her expression guarded. He knew the argument was coming—it had been brewing since they left the cavern—but he wasn’t in the mood to back down.

When they reached the clearing where his vehicle was parked, she spun to face him, her eyes flashing like embers in the fading twilight.

“Don’t even think about it, Beck,” Irene said sharply, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know what happened up in the cave…”

“Good. I’d hate to think it wasn’t as memorable for you as it was for me,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Irene rolled her eyes. “Of course, it was memorable. But I’m not ready to just join your pack at your estate. I want to go back to the B&B.”

Beck sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Irene, this isn’t up for debate.”

Her brows shot up, and a sardonic laugh escaped her lips. “Excuse me? I think I just heard you say this isn’t up for debate. Since when do I take orders from you?”

“Since you nearly got killed twice in one day,” Beck shot back, his voice a low growl. She certainly knew how to kill a mood. “Since I claimed you as my mate? You think I can just let you wander around out here with hunters on your tail? What’s your plan? To keep running and hope for the best?”

---