Chapter 19

19

IRENE

A ll around tension sparked with a kind of energy that prickled at Irene’s skin and set her wolf on edge. She could hear the hunters long before they broke through the trees—booted feet crashing through the underbrush, the occasional hissed order, the ominous clink of weapons being readied.

“They’re closing in,” Irene murmured, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pounding heart. She clutched one of the silver bars in her hands, its weight a tangible reminder of what was at stake.

Beck’s tall, imposing form stood beside her, his sharp gaze fixed on the direction of the noise. His expression was calm, but she could feel the storm raging beneath the surface. His wolf was just as restless as hers, every instinct screaming to protect what they’d fought so hard to find.

“They’re not walking away this time,” Beck said, his voice low and dangerous.

Irene’s wolf bristled in agreement, the primal need to defend her mate and their claim roaring through her. “Then let’s finish this,” she replied, her eyes narrowing as she dropped the bar into her pack and flexed her fingers.

The hunters emerged moments later, their rifles raised and their expressions hard. The leader—a tall, scarred man with a cruel glint in his eye—stepped forward, his weapon trained on Beck.

“You should’ve walked away when you had the chance,” the leader said, his voice dripping with menace.

“And you should’ve stayed out of our territory,” Beck shot back, his voice a low growl.

The tension snapped like a taut wire as one of the hunters fired, the crack of the gunshot ringing through the clearing. Beck moved like lightning, grabbing Irene and pulling her behind him before the hunters could bring their guns to bear.

“That’s it,” Irene snarled, her wolf pushing to the surface as she bared her teeth. She stepped out from behind Beck, her hand moving to the hilt of her knife. “You’ve had your fun. Now it’s our turn.”

Irene and Beck split apart, causing the hunters to become disorganized and giving Irene and Beck time to strip out of their clothing before the hunters could reorganize and focus. In the blink of an eye, both called their wolves forward, the swirling mist enveloping them.

The ground beneath Beck’s bare feet trembled as he was encased in the eerie glow. Irene’s breath caught as the change overtook him, his form contorting with a primal grace. In moments, the mist dissipated, revealing a massive wolf with a thick coat of black fur and glowing blue eyes that locked onto the hunters with predatory intent.

As the mist curled around her legs and raced upward. Her heart pounded as the transformation gripped her, her bones shifting and lengthening, her senses sharpening. When the mist cleared, her crimson fur gleamed in the moonlight, her eyes blazing as her wolf emerged fully.

The hunters confidence faltered and their movements became uncoordinated as they took in the wolves before them. Then, their leader barked an order, the hunters raised their weapons and the forest erupted into chaos.

Beck moved first, launching himself at the nearest hunter with terrifying speed. His powerful jaws clamped onto the man’s arm, forcing him to drop his weapon with a scream. Beck’s claws raked across the hunter’s chest, sending him sprawling into the dirt as he ripped the man’s arm from his body.

Irene followed, her wolf relishing the fight as she lunged for another attacker. She dodged a wild swing of a rifle and leapt, her sharp teeth sinking into his shoulder. The hunter howled in pain, collapsing under her weight as she drove him to the ground. Blood slicked her muzzle as she turned, searching for the next threat.

The clearing became a battlefield—a savage, brutal dance of survival. Beck was relentless, tearing through the hunters with an efficiency born of both instinct and experience. Irene mirrored his ferocity, her wolf lending her the strength and agility to keep pace. Together, they were a whirlwind of claws and teeth, moving as one against the threat.

But the hunters were prepared, their numbers overwhelming. Gunshots rang out, the sharp crack of bullets tearing through the air. A bullet skinned Beck’s flank, but she didn’t see him falter. His wolf roared in fury, his glowing eyes locking on Irene as she fended off two hunters at once.

“Stay close!” he growled through their bond, his voice a low rumble in her mind.

“Duh! There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m leaving,” she snarled back, slamming her shoulder into an attacker and sending him sprawling. Her wolf’s instincts flared as the hunters regrouped, closing in with renewed determination.

Beck’s growl deepened, his muscles coiling as he leapt to her side. Then, he did something that made Irene’s wolf still for a moment. He tilted his head back and let loose a howl—a long, deep, primal cry that echoed through the wilderness with a chilling resonance. The sound carried power, a call to his pack that sent a shiver down Irene’s spine.

The hunters hesitated, their confidence giving way to uncertainty as the sound echoed through the trees. The forest seemed to hold its breath for a moment, and then shadows moved in the darkness. The mist rose again, swirling as more wolves emerged from the trees. The pack had arrived.

A dozen wolves, their eyes glowing with feral intensity, surrounded the clearing. The hunters shouted in panic, firing wildly as the pack closed in. It was futile. The wolves attacked with precision and savagery, their fangs flashing as they took down the hunters one by one.

Irene leapt into the fray beside Beck, her wolf surging with the thrill of the fight. She slammed into a hunter, her teeth tearing through his weapon strap before sinking into his arm. Beck was at her side, his massive form shielding her from an attacker’s blade as he crushed the man beneath him with terrifying strength.

The clearing became a blur of fur, blood, and desperate cries. The pack worked as one, overwhelming the hunters with their coordinated assault. The problem with fighting the hunters was it seemed no matter how many fell, there were more to take their place. The leader tried to rally his men, but the effort was short-lived. A sleek black wolf lunged for him, dragging him to the ground as others closed in to finish him.

When the last hunter fell, the clearing fell eerily silent. The pack stood among the carnage, their collective breath heaving and their fur streaked with blood. Irene shifted first, the mist enveloping her as she returned to her human form. She stood barefoot and breathless, her red hair wild around her face as she took in the scene.

Beck shifted moments later, his powerful frame towering beside her. His chest heaved, as he scanned the clearing with a sharp intensity. The pack began to disperse, melting back into the trees, but Beck and Irene remained, their eyes meeting in the aftermath. A few remained behind and with practiced efficiency, began dragging the bodies of the fallen hunters into a haphazard pile.

“Stay with me,” Beck said, his voice rough but steady.

Irene nodded, her body trembling with adrenaline. The fight was over, but something deeper had been set in motion—something neither of them could ignore. They grabbed their clothes and redressed.

“It’s over,” she said softly, her voice barely audible.

Beck turned to her, his glowing eyes meeting hers. “For now,” he said, his tone grim. “But this isn’t the end. There’ll be more—there always are.”

Irene nodded, her hand finding his as she squeezed it tightly. “Then we’ll face them together,” she said, her voice filled with quiet determination.

Beck’s lips curved into a faint smile, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Damn right we will.”

But as the pack began to disperse, their victory overshadowed by what lay ahead. Something told Irene that their fight was far from over. The silver—at least part of it—was safe—for now—but the danger it brought loomed larger than ever. The shadows were all around them, and she knew they held unknown threats and danger.

The air was thick with the aftermath of battle, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the earthy scent of the forest. Irene stood beside Beck, her breath still coming in short, ragged bursts.

Beck’s presence was a steadying force beside her, his sheer dominance radiating like a palpable aura. He turned to his second-in-command, Des, whose fierce eyes met Beck’s without question.

“Wrap the leader in cheesecloth,” Beck ordered, his voice low but commanding. “Send him to the address we pulled from their registration.”

Des gave a curt nod, his expression grim. “You want to leave a note?”

Beck’s lips curled into a sharp, humorless smile. “The message is clear enough. Stay out of Silver Falls.”

Irene shivered at the dark promise in his tone, but she felt no pity for the man or his crew. They had come for blood, and they’d gotten it—just not the way they’d expected. The pack’s loyalty to Beck and their seamless unity struck a chord deep within her. This wasn’t just a group of wolves; it was a family.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze sweeping over her.

“I’m fine,” Irene replied, though her voice wavered slightly. The adrenaline of the fight was beginning to fade, leaving her body aching and her mind spinning. “Just a little... overwhelmed.”

Beck’s hand found her arm, his touch firm yet reassuring. “You did well,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet strength that steadied her racing thoughts. “You held your own. You fought as well as any warrior in my pack. If your women fight as well, they could add their strength to ours.”

His words hit her like a bolt of lightning, piercing through the walls she’d built around herself. For years, she’d lived by one rule: trust no one but herself. But Beck had shattered that belief with his unwavering support and his refusal to let her face the darkness alone.

“Let’s get back,” Beck said, his voice gentler now. “We’ve had enough of this place for one day.”

The pack began to disperse, leaving behind a group of wolves to continue disposing of the bodies. As they finished their work, the other wolves slipped back into the trees like shadows. Beck led the way, his hand steady on Irene’s lower back as they walked. The warmth of his touch seeped into her, a grounding force amidst the chaos.

By the time they reached the mansion, the moon was high, casting a soft silver glow over the sprawling estate. The imposing structure loomed before them, its lights glowing warmly against the darkness. As they climbed the wide stone steps to the front porch, Irene’s steps slowed.

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the mansion, then shifting to Beck. The realization hit her with startling clarity—a truth she hadn’t allowed herself to fully acknowledge until this moment. This was home.

Not just the mansion, or Silver Falls, or even the pack. Beck was her home. He was her anchor in a storm she hadn’t even realized she was weathering.

“Irene?” Beck’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, his eyes focused on her.

She turned to him, her heart pounding. “I love you,” she said, the words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. “I didn’t think I’d ever find a place I belonged, or someone I could trust, but you...” She hesitated, her throat tightening. “You changed everything.”

Beck’s expression softened, his hand moving to cup her cheek. “You’re mine, Irene,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “I told you that from the beginning. And you’re not just my mate—you’re part of this pack now. You, and your group. You’re family.”

Her chest ached at the sincerity in his words, the promise that she no longer had to fight alone. “What about the hunters?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “They won’t stop.”

Beck shrugged. “Then as often as they come, we’ll stop them,” he said simply, his tone unyielding. “They’ll learn what happens when they come after what’s mine.”

Irene swallowed hard, the weight of his conviction settling over her like a protective shield. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to believe in a future where she didn’t have to run, didn’t have to hide.

“And you’ll take care of my pack as well?” she asked.

“They’re welcome here,” Beck said without hesitation. “All of them. They’ll have protection, resources, and a place to call home. If they’re willing to trust us, we’ll show them what it means to have a pack that stands together.”

Her breath hitched, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She nodded, her voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I’ll tell them. I’ll convince them.”

Beck’s lips curved into a faint smile, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Good. Because this is just the beginning, Irene. For us. For all of us.”

The warmth of his words wrapped around her like a cocoon, banishing the lingering shadows of doubt and fear. As she looked into his eyes, she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Irene’s wolf stirred, her instincts sharpening as some of the familiar tension returned. The battle might not be over—there were hunters all over the world, but this time, she wasn’t afraid.

She had Beck. She had a pack.

And she was ready.

The forest glowed with the light of the full moon, casting a silvery sheen over the clearing where Beck’s pack and Irene’s group of women stood together. Lanterns hung from the low branches of ancient trees, their soft light mingling with the flickering glow of a bonfire at the center of the circle. The air was thick with anticipation, the hum of unity and hope an almost tangible force that wrapped around everyone present.

Irene stood at Beck’s side, her hand clasped tightly in his. He was dressed in a tailored shirt and dark slacks, his usual rugged confidence softened by the warmth in his eyes as he glanced down at her. She’d chosen a simple white dress, its flowing fabric brushing her bare feet as the cool grass tickled her skin. She hadn’t expected to feel nervous, but as the pack and her group of women gathered closer, her stomach fluttered.

“You’re shaking,” Beck murmured, his voice low and teasing.

“I’m not,” Irene replied, though her voice betrayed her. She tilted her chin up. “It’s the night air.”

“Hmm,” Beck hummed, his lips curving into a faint smile. He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “You’ve faced hunters, uncovered lost treasure, and fought by my side, but this makes you nervous?”

She couldn’t help but smile despite the nerves swirling in her chest. “It’s different,” she admitted, her voice soft. “This... this is real.”

Beck squeezed her hand, his gaze steady and unwavering. “This is us, Irene. Our pack, our home. And it’s just the beginning.”

The sound of a low, rhythmic drumbeat pulled her attention to the center of the clearing. The ceremony was about to begin. Des stepped forward, his presence commanding as he lifted his voice to address the crowd.

“Tonight, we honor the bond of mates and the blending of packs,” he said, his deep voice carrying over the clearing. “We welcome new sisters into our fold, and we celebrate the strength of unity.”

Irene’s group of women stood to one side, their expressions a mix of awe and cautious hope. They had spent so long surviving on the fringes, trusting no one but themselves. Yet here they were, standing shoulder to shoulder with Beck’s pack, their collective strength a beacon of what was possible.

As the drumbeat continued, Beck turned to her, his expression softening. “Are you ready?”

Irene nodded, her pulse quickening as she met his gaze. “I am.”

Beck raised their joined hands, his voice steady as he spoke the ancient words of the shifter bonding ceremony. Irene repeated them, her voice gaining strength with each word. It felt as though the world around them faded, leaving only the two of them standing together, their bond sealing with every syllable.

When the final words were spoken, the clearing erupted into cheers and howls of celebration. Irene laughed, the sound light and unrestrained as Beck pulled her into his arms, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that left no room for doubt. She was his, and he was hers—now and always.

As the celebration continued around them, Irene found herself pulled into a whirlwind of warmth and acceptance. The pack members she hadn’t met introduced themselves, their easy smiles and genuine welcomes easing the last remnants of her doubt. Her group of women mingled with the pack, their laughter and tentative camaraderie a sight that filled her chest with a quiet, overwhelming joy.

Much later, as the crowd began to disperse, Irene and Beck walked hand in hand back toward the mansion.

“This feels like a dream,” Irene said, her voice soft as she glanced at Beck. “Like it’s too good to be true.”

“It’s real,” Beck replied, his tone steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to run anymore, Irene. You don’t have to fight alone. You have me, the pack, this town. You have a home.”

Her throat tightened, and she stopped, turning to face him. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “For everything. For not giving up on me, even when I made it hard.”

Beck cupped her face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm. “There was never a chance of that,” he said. “You’re my mate, Irene. My home. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

The sincerity in his words undid her, and she leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she kissed him with all the love and gratitude she couldn’t put into words.

When they finally pulled apart, Beck smiled, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “Welcome home, Irene.”

She smiled back, her heart swelling as she took his hand once more. Together, they climbed the steps to the mansion, the future stretching out before them like a promise. Silver Falls was no longer just a place on a map—it was her home. And Beck? He was her forever.

As they stepped inside, the sound of a distant howl echoed through the night—a call of unity, of strength, of the new beginning they had forged together.

The moon hung low over Silver Falls, casting pale light over the clearing where the members of the Wildhaven Clan gathered. Flint Mercer stood tall, his muscular frame radiating strength and dominance, his tawny hair glinting like burnished gold in the moonlight. His golden eyes scanned the assembled shifters, some glaring with distrust, others with the faintest flicker of hope.

“Silas,” Flint growled, his voice cutting through the tense silence. “You’ve led this clan into ruin. Young males exiled. She-cats used as bargaining chips for alliances they didn’t want. It ends now.”

Across the clearing, Silas stepped forward, a smirk twisting his lips. His broad shoulders and sinewy frame still bore the confidence of a seasoned alpha, though his dark eyes narrowed with the hint of unease. “You’ve been gone too long, Mercer,” Silas sneered. “The clan isn’t yours—it never was.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Flint countered, his voice steady, like the calm before a storm. “Step down, Silas. I won’t ask again.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd as Silas’s smirk fell. His claws extended, his body already beginning to shift. “If you want my place, you’ll have to take it. I’ll show everyone here why I’m still their alpha.”

Flint’s jaw clenched as he met Silas’s challenge head-on. “So be it.”

The shift was almost instantaneous. Flint’s powerful body transformed, his tawny hair replaced by a sleek, muscular coat of golden fur. Silas, smaller and slower, roared as he lunged, his claws slicing through the air with deadly intent.

The two mountain lions collided in a flurry of claws, fangs, and raw power. Flint dodged Silas’s strike and countered with a vicious swipe across the older male’s flank. Blood spattered the forest floor, and those gathered gasped, some stepping back, others leaning in with bated breath.

“You’ve grown soft, Silas!” called one of the others who surrounded them.

Flint snarled, his voice a guttural growl through his lion’s throat. He leapt onto Silas’s back, claws digging deep into muscle, forcing the older male to the ground.

Silas roared in rage, twisting to throw Flint off, but Flint was relentless. Years of Force Recon training, honed instincts, and pure determination gave him an edge. He sank his teeth into Silas’s shoulder, his golden eyes blazing with dominance.

With a final, savage roar, Flint delivered the fatal blow, his claws raking across Silas’s throat. The older lion collapsed, his body shifting back into human form, lifeless.

Flint shifted back, standing naked and bloodied, his chest heaving as he surveyed the clan. Silence blanketed the clearing as the shifters processed what they had witnessed.

“Those loyal to Silas,” Flint said, his voice steady but unyielding, “have a choice. Accept me as your alpha or leave Wildhaven. There is no middle ground.”

For a moment, no one moved. Then, one by one, heads bowed in submission. Flint exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders.

Wes, his younger brother, stepped forward. His wiry build and sharp features were a stark contrast to Flint’s bulk, but the determination in his amber eyes mirrored Flint’s. “We’ll rebuild, Flint. I’ve already started. The ones Silas drove off—they’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Flint’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Wes crossed his arms, his lips twitching into a grin. “They’ve got a camp up in the mountains. I’ve been keeping them informed, letting them know when you’d return. They’re ready to come back.”

Flint stared at his brother, admiration and pride swelling in his chest. “You’ve been doing this all along? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were gone,” Wes said simply. “But I knew you’d be back. I couldn’t just stand by and watch this clan fall apart.”

Flint clasped Wes’s shoulder. “You’ve done good, kid.” Wes was far from a kid, but Flint had always called him that. “Better than I could’ve asked for.” As the clan began to disperse, whispers of uncertainty and hope filled the air. Flint turned to Wes. “Tomorrow, we head to the mountains. I want to see them.”

Wes nodded, but his expression darkened as he glanced toward the tree line. “The sooner the better. Hunters and others have been lurking around. We might need to be ready to fight.”

Flint followed his gaze. In the distance, barely visible against the shadows, a figure lingered, watching. Its eyes glinted eerily in the dark, and a low growl echoed through the trees.

“Who the hell is that?” Flint muttered.

Wes’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t know, but whoever it is has been lurking around since the challenge started.”

The figure stepped closer, the hooded cloak obscured everything about the person. The air was thick with menace. Flint’s muscles tensed, ready for a fight. Whoever this was, they weren’t here to submit. The person stood where it was before nodding and then withdrawing.

“Looks like your first test as alpha may be coming sooner than you thought,” Wes said grimly.

Flint’s golden eyes narrowed, his voice a low rumble. “Let them come.”

Ready to read Flint’s story? Click here to read Flint’s Fate.