Page 11 of Beckett's Fate

Frustrated, she stood, brushing dirt from her knees. The forest felt suddenly suffocating, the gravity of her thoughts pressing in from all sides. She needed to get out, to regroup, to eat something that didn’t come from her pack.

The familiar chime of the Rusty Fork’s bell greeted her as she stepped inside, her boots leaving faint prints on the well-worn floor. The warmth of the diner wrapped around her like a blanket, carrying the comforting scent of smoked meats and freshly baked bread.

Irene’s stomach growled loudly, reminding her she hadn’t eaten much since lunch. She slid onto a stool at the counter, scanning the menu posted on the chalkboard above. Her eyes landed on the special of the day—smoked BBQ ribs.

Perfect.

When the waitress approached, Irene smiled. “I’ll take the ribs, a side salad, and a sweet tea. To go, please.”

The woman nodded, jotting down her order with quick efficiency. Irene’s gaze flicked briefly around the room, half-expecting to see Beck somewhere in the shadows, watchingher with that unnervingly perceptive gaze. But the sheriff was nowhere to be seen, and she exhaled a small sigh of relief.

Still, the thought of him lingered, the memory of his voice wrapping around her like velvet as she waited for her order.

When the waitress returned, she handed over her meal, the scent of smoked ribs wafting from the bag. “Ruby says you’re staying at the B&B. If you want to leave your card information, you can just run a tab and settle up when you leave,” said the waitress.

Irene’s stomach growled again. “That would be great,” she said, letting the waitress run her card. She was eager to retreat to the solitude of the Bristlecone.

Back at the Bristlecone Bed & Breakfast, Irene settled into the cozy armchair by the small table in her room. She unpacked the ribs and salad, her mouth watering at the sight of the tender meat, glistening with sauce.

The first bite was heaven. The smoky sweetness of the ribs paired perfectly with the tangy dressing on the salad, and for a moment, she let herself forget about Beck, the treasure, and the eerie silence of the forest.

“Worth it,” she murmured between bites, savoring the meal as the stress of the day melted away. By the time she finished, her body felt warm and pleasantly heavy, her mind lulled into a rare sense of peace.

She took a quick shower and then crawled into bed. Sleep came easily, but it didn’t bring the respite Irene had hoped for.

She was in the forest again, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. But this time, she wasn’t alone. Beckett was there, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath as he led her to a large, flat rock. He laid her back with her wrists restrained with soft ropes tied to rings driven into the rock.

“She is ready, alpha,” said a voice she couldn’t recognize, coming from someone she couldn’t see.

Irene’s head whipped to the side at the sound of his deeply masculine voice. She searched the darkness—she could hear people moving, mumbling, but the only person she could see was Beck.

Soft warm fingers touched her ankle, and she gasped before she could stop herself.

“Easy, Irene.” He stepped into view—impossibly tall and wide across the shoulders. “Just relax.”

Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one tied to a rock and surrounded by an unknown pack of what could be ravenous wolves.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

He grasped the other ankle and spread her legs wide as he stepped between them.

“What?”

A rumbling chuckle sounded in her ears as two hands ran up her thighs. “From the first time I saw you, I knew you would be here. It couldn’t be anyone else.”

She blinked rapidly in confusion. “I don’t understand. You saw me, and your first thought was to have me stripped naked and tied to a rock?”

Her voice came out dripping with sarcasm, which was probably a bad idea when tied naked to a rock with the pack’s alpha standing between your legs. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his jeans rode low on his hips. Not only did he have a sculpted chest, but those six-pack abs were actually an eight-pack with those sexy hip notches. If the bulge behind his fly was any indication, the man was seriously well endowed.

Beck chuckled, and it was the kind of sound only an alpha male sure of his prowess could make.

“I’m going to eat you, Irene.” His hands drifted higher up her thighs. Cool night air drifted across her most intimate regions, quickly followed by something much warmer.

Irene shivered. “Eat me?” she squeaked. This wasn’t exactly the scenario she had in mind.

“But you will enjoy it,” he chuckled. “There is no need to fear me.”

“You think not? You mean to make a meal of me with witnesses.”

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