Page 47 of Beckett's Fate

Her lips parted, but whatever retort she’d been about to fire died on her tongue. Instead, she looked away, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “I don’t need saving,” she said quietly.

“I never said you did,” Beck countered, his tone softening. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. “But this isn’t just about you anymore. Everybody needs saving once in a while. Those hunters aren’t going to stop, and the pack’s estate is the safest place for us right now. My wolves will protect us while we figure out our next move.”

Irene’s shoulders sagged slightly, the fire in her gaze dimming. “I don’t like feeling trapped,” she admitted.

“I know,” Beck said, his voice steady. “But this isn’t a trap. It’s a strategy. And the only way I’m going to get any sleep tonight is by knowing you’re safe.”

She let out a huff, her hands dropping to her sides. “You’re really not giving me a choice, are you?”

“No,” Beck said simply, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

For a moment, they stared at each other, the silence crackling with unspoken tension. Then Irene exhaled, her breath visible inthe cool evening air. “Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “But if I hate it, you’re going to hear about it.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Beck said with a faint grin, opening the passenger door of his SUV for her. His mate—he hadn’t known how much he would like that word—could be prickly, but she was also, for the most part, practical.

She slid in without another word, her expression a mixture of defiance and resignation. Beck circled around to the driver’s side, climbing in and starting the engine. The roar of the vehicle shattered the quiet, but the strain between them lingered, filling the space like an unseen force.

As they drove toward the pack’s estate, the winding forest roads illuminated only by the headlights, Beck cast a quick glance at Irene. She stared out the window, her fingers drumming lightly against her thigh. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to offer some reassurance—but he knew better than to push her when she was like this.

After several minutes of silence, Irene spoke, her voice cutting through the low hum of the engine. “What’s your pack like?”

Beck hesitated, surprised by the question. “Strong. Loyal. They’re family.”

Irene’s gaze flicked to him, her expression unreadable. “And you think they’ll welcome me? A stranger?”

“You’re not a stranger,” Beck said firmly. “You’re my mate.”

Her lips twitched, but the smile didn’t fully form. “That’s not an answer.”

“Yes it is, and they’d welcome the rest of your pack as well,” Beck said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You’ll see.”

She didn’t respond, turning her attention back to the window. Beck tightened his grip on the wheel, his mind racing. He could feel her reluctance, her unease, but he also sensedsomething else—something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to share.

They drove in silence for the next half hour, the forest gradually giving way to rolling hills and the first glimpses of the pack’s territory. Beck felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension as they neared the estate. He knew his wolves would keep them safe, but he also knew the challenges that lay ahead—for both of them.

As the SUV rounded the final bend and the estate came into view, Beck glanced at Irene. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sprawling main grounds and the mansion built by money from silver and gold. It wasn’t overly fancy, but it was formidable in design blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape.

“Welcome to my world,” Beck said quietly, pulling the SUV to a stop in front of the main building.

Irene didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the estate as though it held the answers to questions she hadn’t yet asked.

Irene raised an eyebrow. “It’s... bigger than I expected.”

“It has to be,” Beck replied. “The pack’s grown over the years. We’ve got dormitories for unattached wolves, cottages for mated pairs, and a central dining hall where everyone can come together. The main house is for leadership and guests.”

She nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. He could tell she was processing, trying to find her place in a world that was so different from her own.

As they stepped onto the porch, the door swung open, revealing Des. His gaze swept over Irene, taking note of the fresh claiming mark on her throat before landing on Beck. “You’re back late,” Des said gruffly, though his lips twitched in a faint smile.

“Got held up,” Beck replied, clapping a hand on Des’s shoulder. “Des, this is Irene. Irene, Des.”

Des nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Welcome to Silver Falls. If Beck’s brought you here, I’m guessing there’s trouble.”

“You could say that,” Irene said, her tone measured but polite.

Des’s eyes flicked to Beck, his brow furrowing. “We’ll talk later.”

Beck nodded. “Get the patrols doubled. I don’t want any gaps.”

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