Chapter 15

15

IRENE

A faint scuffle came as the boots cautiously made their way inside—the sound sending a chill racing down Irene’s spine. The hunters were wearing headlamps on their hats, projecting light on the wall that seemed to dance with the shadows in a kind of macabre waltz. Irene’s grip on her flashlight tightened, her knuckles white as the shadows seemed to come closer. She looked to Beck, his imposing figure tense and ready, every muscle coiled with the promise of violence if it came to that.

“They’re here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

Beck looked at her, his gaze sharp and steady. Beneath the surface, Irene knew, his wolf raged as did hers. “We’re going to need to move fast and to fight. They’re coming this way, and they’re not going to want to chat. If you can get past them and head back the way we came. Knox should be coming.”

Irene said nothing but punched him in his bicep. “Your plan sucks. We stay together. Aren’t you the guy who wants me to believe that a pack is always stronger than the individual? Well at least for today, I’m your pack.”

He started to argue and then must have realized how useless that would be. Irene swallowed hard, her mind racing. She wasn’t afraid to fight, but she wasn’t naive enough to think they could take on a group of armed hunters in human form. Their wolves, though—that was a different story.

Beck must have read her mind, his hand already moving to the buttons of his shirt. “Strip,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Her cheeks flared, but she nodded, unzipping her jacket and yanking it off as Beck pulled his shirt over his head. They worked quickly, stripping down to bare skin, the urgency of the moment leaving no time for modesty. She stuffed their clothes into her pack, tightening the straps with quick, efficient motions before leaning it up against the cave wall—out of the way, but easy to get to.

The scuffling grew louder, echoing down the narrow passageway that led to the chamber they’d been exploring.

Irene risked a glance at Beck. His expression was grim, his eyes glowing faintly as his wolf pushed to the surface. She could feel the raw power radiating off him, a force that made her own wolf stir with anticipation.

“We do this together,” Beck said, his voice a low growl as he crouched beside her. “Stay close, no matter what happens.”

She nodded, her heart pounding as the familiar heat of her shift began to build beneath her skin. The air around her shimmered, the cavern’s dim light bending and crackling as her body gave way to the primal power within.

The swirling mist of her shift was warm and electric, sparking faintly as it enveloped her. Beside her, Beck’s mist swirled dark and thick, the crackle of his energy sending a ripple through her own. Their wolves emerged side by side, two massive forms that filled the cavern with their presence.

Irene shook her head, clearing the last vestiges of her human thoughts as her wolf senses sharpened. She could feel Beck’s presence like a steady drumbeat, his protective instincts wrapping around her like a shield.

The hunters rounded the corner, their flashlights cutting through the dim chamber.

“What the hell—” one of them started, his voice faltering as the dual mists crackled and melted away completely, the air thick with an almost tangible charge.

Beck’s black wolf stood tall and formidable, his fierce blue eyes glowing with feral intensity. Irene’s red wolf was smaller but no less imposing, her sleek frame coiled with power, her eyes locked on the intruders.

For a moment, the hunters froze, their weapons half-raised as they stared at the wolves before them. Irene knew it was one thing to know wolf-shifters existed, but to be trapped in a small cavern with them was another thing entirely. The primal energy radiating from the pair seemed to fill the chamber, a warning that sent a shiver down the spine of even the boldest hunter.

“Shifters,” one of the men muttered, his voice trembling.

“No kidding,” another snapped, his hands fumbling with his rifle. “Take them out before they?—”

Irene moved first, her wolf lunging forward with a ferocious snarl. Beck was right beside her, his powerful frame slamming into the nearest hunter with the force of a freight train. The man went down hard, his weapon clattering to the ground as Beck’s massive jaws snapped perilously close to his face.

Irene darted toward the second hunter, her claws raking across his chest as he stumbled back, his flashlight tumbling to the floor and plunging the chamber into near darkness.

The hunters shouted, their movements frantic as they scrambled to regroup. But the wolves were faster, their combined strength and ferocity overwhelming the intruders with an efficiency that left no room for recovery.

One of the men managed to raise his rifle, but Beck was on him in an instant, his powerful jaws clamping down on the barrel and wrenching it from his grip. The man screamed, his voice echoing through the cavern as he stumbled back, his weapon now a useless piece of scrap.

Irene turned her attention to the last hunter, her wolf circling him with a low, guttural growl that made him freeze in place. His hands shook as he raised them in surrender, his wide eyes darting between her and Beck.

Beck’s wolf snarled, the sound a low rumble that reverberated through the chamber.

The hunter didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and bolted, his footsteps echoing wildly as he disappeared into the darkness.

Irene’s wolf let out a satisfied huff, her gaze flicking to Beck as the primal energy in the chamber began to ease. But even as the immediate danger passed, she knew it was far from over.

Beck padded over to her, his black fur brushing against hers as he nudged her shoulder with his snout. She met his gaze, the connection between them stronger than ever.

But as they turned toward the deeper recesses of the cavern, a faint sound reached their ears.

Voices. More hunters.

Irene’s wolf stiffened, her body tensing as the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. They weren’t alone—and the next wave was already on its way.

The faint sound of approaching footsteps echoed ominously through the cavern, each muffled thud sending a jolt of adrenaline through Irene’s veins. Her red wolf bristled, her eyes darting to Beck. His black wolf stood tall and imposing beside her, his eyes glowing with feral intensity.

The second wave of hunters was closing in. There was no time to regroup, no time to plan. All they had was each other—and the unrelenting resolve to survive.

The first hunter appeared at the edge of the chamber, his flashlight casting jagged shadows on the walls. He froze for a split second when his beam illuminated the two wolves, but he recovered quickly, barking orders to the others behind him.

“Spread out! Don’t let them escape!”

Irene didn’t wait for them to make the first move. With a guttural snarl, she launched herself at the closest hunter, her powerful legs propelling her across the cavern. Her claws raked against his arm, knocking his weapon aside as he staggered back with a yell.

Chaos erupted in an instant.

Beck lunged at another hunter, his massive frame colliding with the man like a battering ram. The hunter went down hard, his rifle skittering across the floor as Beck’s teeth snapped dangerously close to his throat.

But the hunters weren’t amateurs. They regrouped quickly, their weapons raised as they shouted to each other, their movements coordinated and deliberate. Irene twisted out of the way as a shot rang out, the bullet sparking against the cavern wall behind her.

The confined space turned every sound into a deafening roar, every movement into a frantic dance of survival.

Irene darted to Beck’s side, her wolf growling fiercely as she joined him in fending off two hunters who had managed to corner them. Her jaws clamped down on the strap of one man’s rifle, yanking it away as Beck knocked the other to the ground with a powerful swipe of his paw.

The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood.

Beck roared in pain as a bullet grazed his flank, the scent of his blood igniting a fire within Irene. Her mate was injured. No one was going to hurt him. Not while she was still breathing. Her wolf snarled, her vision narrowing as rage surged through her.

With a feral cry, she turned on the hunter who had fired the shot, her claws slashing across his midsection in a blur of movement. He stumbled back, his weapon falling from his hands as he clutched at the deep gashes, his face pale with shock.

The fight became a blur of motion and instinct, the two wolves moving as one. Beck’s injury slowed him slightly, but he fought with a relentless brutality, his strength a beacon that drew Irene closer. Together, they pushed the hunters back, their ferocity overwhelming even the most hardened of their attackers.

When the last hunter turned and bolted, his curses echoing behind him, Irene stood panting in the center of the chamber, her red fur matted with sweat and dirt. Beck limped toward her, his body language a mixture of gratitude and pain.

Her wolf whined softly, nudging him with her nose as she circled him protectively. The wound on his flank wasn’t deep, but the sight of his blood made her stomach twist.

They shifted almost simultaneously, the mists swirling around them in a cacophony of lightning, thunder and shards of color and energy. Irene emerged first, the cool air against her bare skin doing little to calm the fire still burning in her veins.

Beck stood before her, his tall, muscular frame glistening with sweat and streaked with dirt. The wound on his side trickled blood, the sharp red stark against his bronzed skin. Bloodied and dirty with sweat and things she’d rather not think about, he was still gorgeous—even better than the dream.

“You’re hurt,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of worry and anger.

“It’s nothing,” Beck replied, his tone rough as he stepped closer. “You fought like hell, Irene. That was incredible.”

She shook her head. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t act like this is normal. You’re bleeding, Beck. You could’ve been killed.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing her arm in a gesture meant to soothe. “So could you,” he said softly. “But we’re both alive, and that’s all that matters.”

The tension between them was palpable, the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through their bodies. Irene looked up at him, her chest heaving as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Beck said, a faint smile curving his lips.

Before she could think, before she could stop herself, she closed the distance between them. Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin as she pulled him down toward her.

Their lips met in a fierce, desperate kiss, the heat between them igniting like a wildfire. Beck’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over hers with a hunger that mirrored her own.

Irene felt herself melting into him, her body responding to the intensity of his touch, the sheer power of his presence. The world around them faded, the echoes of the battle replaced by the pounding of their hearts and the heat of their desire.

Their lips tangled together, dueling for supremacy as they clung to one another. His cock hardened against her, and she knew if he chose to claim her, she would never be able to say she hadn’t wanted it. He pushed her back into the wall—his body pressing against hers in a primal, dominant possession.

He hesitated for a moment, waiting, she thought, to see if she would object, but she didn’t. She knew she might regret this down the line, but in this moment the only thing she wanted was to be the claimed, fated mate of Beckett Grey. And she didn’t want to wait for some ceremony where someone she didn’t know proclaimed what she did. She was his, and he was hers.

When she offered him no resistance and arched into his body, Beck lowered his head, groaning as he took her pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking. Irene felt arousal surge through her body, and she moaned. With one hand he teased and played with the nipple that he didn’t have in his mouth, where he swirled his tongue around it before nipping it.

The other hand slid down her body, tracing her curves until it came to rest on her sex. He cupped her mound before sliding his hand down and parting her lower lips with his fingers, tracing the outline of her pussy before plunging two fingers in and out of her sheath.

She had never been so aroused in her life. The minute he curled his fingers up inside her, pinched her nipple and sucked hard, her body responded with an explosive orgasm. She would have cried out, but he brought his mouth up to hers to swallow her scream of ecstasy.

His cock throbbed between her legs and the last part of her brain that was still capable of rational thought said she should protest. The combination of his fondling made words or any physical response that was less than encouraging impossible.

“Mine,” he growled provocatively.

“Beck, I…”

He fastened his mouth to hers, plunging his tongue into the recesses of her mouth as he kissed her possessively. Irene found she had no resistance or defense against the onslaught of his need and gave up any pretense that she did. What was worse, in spite of what her claiming might mean for her pack, she didn’t want to resist.