Page 4 of Beckett's Fate

“I have to,” Irene replied firmly. “Don’t you see? If this silver is real, and I believe it is,” she said gently shaking the map, “it could change everything. We wouldn’t have to scrape by anymore. We’d have resources. Safety.”

Sophie snorted, shaking her head. “And you think it’s worth walking into a town full of shifters? A town where the sheriff is the alpha of the local wolf pack? If they figure out what you are, what you’re doing, they’ll never let you leave.”

“I know the risks,” Irene said, her voice calm but unyielding. “That’s why I’m going alone and taking precautions.” She reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out a small vial filled with an amber-colored liquid. “This will mask my scent. As far as anyone in Silver Falls is concerned, I’m just a visiting human there to hike in the wilderness.”

The pack exchanged uneasy glances. Gwen, always the skeptic, scoffed. “You trust that stuff? What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” Irene said, meeting her gaze with quiet confidence. “I’ve tested it. And I’ll be careful.”

“You better be,” Sophie interjected. “Because if you’re caught, it won’t just be you who pays the price. It’ll be all of us.”

“I would never betray you,” Irene said, her voice fierce. “You’re my family. But this is our best chance, and I’m not going to sit here and let fear hold us back.”

There was an undeniable disquiet among those in the circle, but no one spoke against her. Finally, Sophie sighed, stepping closer to place a hand on Irene’s shoulder.

“Don’t get yourself into trouble, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” Irene said with a small smile, though her heart was heavy with the weight of their trust. She pocketed the vial and turned toward the shadows of the forest contemplating her journey to Silver Falls.

Later that night, Irene sat alone by the fire, the camp quiet save for the occasional rustle of the wind. Her packmates had gone to their yurts, leaving her to her thoughts.

She unfolded the map again, tracing her fingers over the carefully marked routes and notes. Silver Falls. The name pulsed in her mind, a symbol of hope and danger in equal measure.

“You’re really going through with this?” Sophie’s voice startled her.

Irene looked up to see the black-haired wolf standing at the edge of the firelight, arms crossed. She hadn’t heard her approach—a testament to Sophie’s skill.

“I am,” Irene said simply.

Sophie sat down across from her, studying her with an intensity that made Irene shift under her gaze. “You’re braver than I’d be,” she admitted. “Or maybe just crazier.”

“Probably both,” Irene said with a small laugh. “But it’s not just about the silver. It’s about something more. A future. A real future.”

Sophie nodded slowly. “Then I hope you find it.”

The two women sat in silence for a moment, the fire crackling between them. When Sophie finally stood, she placed a hand on Irene’s shoulder.

“Take care of yourself out there.”

“I will,” Irene promised.

As Sophie disappeared into the shadows, Irene stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in her eyes. Tomorrow, she would leave the only home she had known for years, stepping into the unknown with nothing but her wits and her will. Danger loomed ahead, but so did possibility.

She would find the silver. For her pack. For herself. And she wouldn’t look back.

The dawn broke over the jagged peaks of the Superstition Mountains, casting long shadows over the rocky terrain. Irene stretched, the desert air cool against her skin despite the sun’s early glow. The ground beneath her boots was dry and gritty, scattered with sharp stones and sparse patches of hardy vegetation.

Removing her clothes, she slipped them into her pack before shifting easily into her wolf form, her red coat catching the light as she shook out her fur. The arid scent of the desert filled her nose—dust, mesquite, and the faint, lingering traces of coyote from the night before. With a deep breath, she took off, her paws kicking up small clouds of dust as she ran. This might be the last time she could run in safety for quite a while.

The terrain was unforgiving, requiring careful steps over loose gravel and sharp rocks, but Irene relished the challenge. Her muscles flexed as she leapt over a cluster of prickly pear cacti, the rising sun warming her coat as she climbed a ridge. From the top, she paused, scanning the sprawling expanse of desert below, painted in streaks of gold. This land was harsh, raw, and relentless, but it was also home.

The thought gave her pause. Would Silver Falls feel the same? She’d seen photos and read descriptions in the journals—forests dense with towering evergreens, the air thick with the scent of pine and damp moss. The rocky terrain would be familiar, but the woods were a different world, a place where the ground would be soft and cool beneath her paws, the shadows deeper and the trails quieter.

Here, every step was exposed. Every movement visible against the open sky. In the forests of Silver Falls, she would be hidden, her scent concealed by the natural dampness of the land. Both places were wild in their own way, but she already knew the transition would feel like stepping into another life entirely.

Irene bounded down the ridge, the wind rushing past her ears as she let the terrain blur beneath her. This was her final run in the Superstitions before she left, and she intended to savor every moment. When she reached the bottom, she slowed, her paws leaving prints in the dust as she padded toward the edge of the pack’s territory.

She shifted back, brushing her fingers through her red hair as she gazed toward the horizon. Pulling her clothes from her pack, she redressed. The sun was higher now, casting the mountains in sharp relief. She was leaving this place, trading its arid openness for the shadowed woods of Silver Falls. It was a necessary step—a chance to secure her pack’s future—but she wasn’t about to let the uncertainty of the unknown stop her.

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