Chapter 9

9

BECK

T he wind whistled through the towering pines as Beck strode toward the pack’s estate, his mind a storm of thoughts. Irene’s scent still lingered on his skin, faint and maddeningly distracting, stirring his wolf and keeping his instincts on edge. Her words replayed in his mind like a broken record, each one adding to the puzzle she’d dropped in his lap.

A runaway. From a pack in New Mexico. The details she’d provided were thin, almost deliberately so, but enough to set his mind racing.

‘She’s lying,’ his wolf growled, restless and agitated.

“Not lying,” Beck muttered under his breath. “Not completely.”

The estate loomed ahead, its sturdy wooden structures nestled within the protective embrace of the forest. The scent of his pack—familiar, grounding—enveloped him as he crossed into their territory. But it did little to ease the tight knot coiling in his gut.

He stepped inside the main building, heading straight for his office. The warmth of the room greeted him, the faint scents of leather, baking, fresh flowers, and pack life mingling and calming his senses. Beck sank into his chair, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the map spread across his desk. His fingers traced the southern boundary, his mind drifting back to where he’d encountered the hunters and reports of other sightings.

They had walked in virtual silence until Beck had finally broken it.

“Start talking,” Beck had said, his tone having left no room for argument.

Irene’s eyes had flashed at his as she continued to walk. “I don’t know what it is you want to know.”

Beck had grabbed her upper arm and whipped her around to face him. “I think you do. You’re no ordinary hiker…”

“I hate to break it to you, but even shifters like to hike in their human form,” she’d said, jerking her arm away.

“What are you doing here?” he’d asked pointedly.

“I’ve already told you everything you need to know.”

“Not even close.” Beck’s gaze had been sharp, unrelenting. “You’ve got hunters on your trail…”

“No. You have hunters in your valley. They’re your problem, not mine.”

“If I hadn’t shown up, they would have been your death or worse.”

“I was handling things.”

“Bullshit. But putting that aside, you’re not just taking random trails. It looks to me like you’re looking for something. Want to tell me what it is?”

“You seem to know so much, why don’t you tell me?” She’d deflated for a moment but then straightened her shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “If you must know, I’m from New Mexico. I left my pack.”

“Why?”

“Because I was ordered to mate with a wolf I had no interest in or attraction to. I didn’t trust my alpha not to force me, so I left,” she’d ended with a shrug of her shoulders.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Is it?” Beck had leaned towards her. To her credit, she hadn’t given ground. “I know most of the alphas in New Mexico, and none of them would pull a stunt like that. You’re hiding something.”

Irene’s lips had pressed into a thin line, her silence speaking volumes.

Beck had exhaled sharply, staring down into her. “If you don’t want me reaching out to the packs in New Mexico to check out your story, then you’d better start talking. Right now, you’re a danger to yourself and everyone else in Silver Falls.”

Her gaze had wavered, her hands balling into fists. “You can’t call them.”

“Why not?” Beck had pressed, his voice low and dangerous.

“Because it’ll put me in danger,” she’d said, her voice trembling slightly before she’d caught herself and straightened. “And you’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

Beck had stared at her. His wolf had growled in frustration, the primal urge to protect her warring with his need for answers. She was hiding something—something big—but the fear beneath her stubborn exterior was real. That much, he couldn’t ignore.

“Fine,” he’d said finally, his tone clipped. “But if you’re lying, I’ll find out. And if it puts my pack at risk, you’ll wish the hunters had finished you off.”

She hadn’t responded. She hadn’t had to. About that time, they’d arrived at the B you don’t know better,” Beck growled, his tone warning.

Des chuckled, pushing off the doorframe. “Just saying. Be careful, Beck. If she is what we’re not saying she is, then she’s not the only one hiding something.”

Beck didn’t respond as Des left, the door clicking softly shut behind him. He stared out the window, the wilderness with its vast forest, mountains and rivers stretching endlessly beyond the glass. Somewhere out there, Irene’s secrets lurked, tangled with danger and the undeniable pull that tied her to him.

His wolf growled low in his chest, the sound a promise: he would protect her, and he would uncover the truth—no matter the cost.

The steady crackle of the fire in his office hearth did little to soothe the storm brewing in Beck’s chest. He stood and leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the scarf draped over the chair across from him where he’d tossed it. Irene’s scent lingered faintly in the air—a maddening, intoxicating reminder of the woman who had upended his careful balance.

Her words echoed in his mind, clipped and cautious, laced with both fear and defiance.

‘You can’t call them—Because it’ll put me in danger.’

Beck’s instincts screamed at him to ignore her plea, to reach out to the alphas in New Mexico and demand answers. He couldn’t imagine any of them forcing a bond on a she-wolf. That kind of behavior went against the very principles of leadership he’d always respected in them. But there’d been a fire in her eyes, a raw honesty in her fear that made him hesitate.

“She’s hiding something,” Beck muttered under his breath, his wolf growling in agreement.

The question was what. Her story had contained enough truth woven into it to make him pause. He could sense the pain beneath her words, the vulnerability she fought to keep buried. But it wasn’t just her past that she was guarding so fiercely.

Why is she here?

Beck pushed away from the desk, pacing the room with long, deliberate strides. His boots echoed softly on the wooden floor as he tried to piece together the puzzle Irene had become.

She wasn’t just here to hike. That much was obvious. Her movements, her searches, the way she lingered in certain parts of the forest—it all pointed to a purpose she wasn’t willing to share.

His gaze flicked to the corner of the room where a detailed map of Silver Falls and its surrounding wilderness was pinned to the wall. The marked trails, the hidden paths—he knew them all by heart. And yet, Irene seemed to have her own map, one he couldn’t see.

The treasure. It had to be. It was the only thing that made sense.

The thought settled heavily in his mind. Silver Falls had always been shrouded in the stories of the lost/haunted/cursed treasure as well as whispered tales of silver veins hidden deep within the mountains. Most visitors dismissed the legends as nothing more than folklore, but a few treasure hunters had come and gone over the years, their hopes dashed against the unforgiving wilderness.

Was that why Irene was here?

The idea both irritated and intrigued him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, for Irene, the search was personal—that perhaps she knew something the others had not.

Beck stilled, his wolf pacing restlessly in the back of his mind. What would drive someone like Irene—a runaway, a woman clearly capable of surviving on her own—to chase a legend?

The fire crackled again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. His instincts urged him to act, to dig deeper, to demand the truth from her. But he had given her his word—reluctantly—that he wouldn’t contact her pack. He chuckled. Come to think of it, she hadn’t told him which pack it was supposed to be.

For now, he would honor that promise, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t find answers.

The next morning, Beck stood at the edge of the ridge Irene had glanced at several times on their walk back to the B&B. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs as he scanned the landscape, his mind replaying the fragmented pieces of Irene’s story.

He crouched near the base of a rocky outcrop, brushing his fingers over a faint carving etched into the stone. It was weathered, almost invisible to the untrained eye, but he knew it well—a mark left by those who had come before, seeking the treasure that had remained elusive for generations.

Is that what she’s looking for?

Beck’s fingers curled into a fist as his jaw tightened. If Irene was chasing the treasure, she wasn’t just putting herself in danger. She was stirring up interest in a secret the town had worked hard to bury.

The wind shifted, carrying with it a faint trace of her scent. Beck straightened, his wolf stirring at the familiar pull. She was close—closer than she should have been.

His gaze swept the tree line, sharp and searching. Irene had a knack for slipping away unnoticed, for keeping herself just out of reach. But she wouldn’t stay hidden forever.

Beck’s lips curved into a faint, wry smile as he turned back toward the trail.

You can run, Irene. But I’ll find you. And when I do, we’re going to have a real conversation about why you’re here.

The thought sent a surge of fierce intent through him, his wolf growling low and possessive in the back of his mind. Whatever Irene was hiding, Beck would uncover it. And when the truth came to light, he had a feeling neither of their lives would ever be the same.

The morning sun dappled the trail ahead of him as he headed back toward town. His wolf paced within him, restless and uneasy, its instincts sharpening as his mind churned over everything Irene had told him—and everything she hadn’t.

Her secrets were like smoke, elusive and impossible to grasp. But he was now certain that she was here for the treasure. It was the only thing that made sense. She was searching with purpose, following trails and patterns that most hikers wouldn’t notice. Her movements betrayed her intent, even if her words remained carefully guarded.

And if it’s the treasure she’s after, Beck thought grimly, she could be walking into trouble. Beck didn’t believe in the treasure per se, he just knew it had brought grief to a lot of people—many of whom had never been heard from again.

The stories about the cache of silver up above the falls had been around for almost as long as the town itself. There were legends about it and a lost silver vein hidden deep in the mountains, guarded by a curse that had claimed the lives of more than one would-be fortune seeker. It was a tale told to children to keep them from wandering too far into the woods—but Beck had seen enough over the years to know the curse might be more than a story.

He couldn’t shake the image of Irene, defiant and fierce, standing in the clearing surrounded by hunters. The thought of her facing danger alone—whether from men with guns or the supposed curse—set his teeth on edge. He couldn’t let her continue down this path, not without understanding why she was so determined to find the treasure.

And not without protecting her from whatever threats might be lurking in the shadows.

Beck reached the pack estate as the sun climbed high in the sky. The place was quiet, the stillness punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Most of his men were out on patrol, keeping an eye on the hunters who had yet to leave the valley.

His beta, Des, was leaning against the porch railing when Beck approached, his sharp eyes scanning the woods.

“You look like a man with too many thoughts in his head,” Des said, his tone light but knowing.

Beck grunted in response, stepping onto the porch and folding his arms across his chest. “Irene.”

Des raised an eyebrow. “Figured. What’s the latest?”

“She’s after the treasure,” Beck said bluntly, his voice edged with frustration. “Or at least, I’m almost certain she is. And if that’s true, she’s going to bring a hell of a lot of trouble with her.”

Des tilted his head, studying Beck carefully. “You worried about the curse?”

Beck shot him a sharp look. “I’m worried about her safety. The treasure’s been nothing but a myth for decades, but the hunters are real. And if they think she knows something that would help them find it, they won’t hesitate to use force to get it out of her.”

Des nodded slowly. “You’ve got a point. And if she actually finds it...”

“It won’t stay secret for long,” Beck finished grimly. “We’ve kept Silver Falls off the radar for decades. That treasure’s not just silver—it’s a beacon. The kind of find that would bring people in droves, poking around where they don’t belong.”

“And putting everyone here at risk,” Des said, his tone darkening.

Beck’s wolf growled softly in agreement, the protective instincts flaring at the thought of Irene in danger.

“I’m not letting anyone hurt her,” Beck said, his voice low and firm.

Des’s expression shifted, his mouth twitching into a faint smile. “You sound like a man with a personal stake in this.” Beck shot him a warning glare, but Des only chuckled. “Hey, I get it. She’s... unique.”

“She’s my fated mate, asshole, and you know it,” Beck admitted after a pause, his voice quiet but resolute.

Des blinked, and the grin widened. “Well, shit. That does explain a lot.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s hiding something,” Beck said, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know what brought her here, what’s driving her to risk her life for a legend—but I’m going to find out. And I’m going to make damn sure she stays alive long enough to tell me.”

That evening, Beck followed Irene’s trail back toward the ridge she’d mentioned. He moved silently through the trees, his senses tuned to every sound, every shift in the air. Her scent lingered faintly on the breeze, drawing him onward like a thread woven into the fabric of the forest.

When he reached the ridge, he paused, crouching to examine a patch of disturbed earth. Footprints—hers—led away from the main trail, cutting a deliberate path toward the base of a rocky outcrop.

What are you looking for, Irene?

The wind shifted, carrying with it a faint, metallic tang. Beck stilled, his wolf bristling at the scent. Gun oil. Scanning the terrain, his body tensed as he rose to his full height.

Then he heard it—a faint murmur of voices, carried on the wind.

The hunters.

His muscles coiled as he moved closer, his steps silent against the forest floor. The voices grew clearer, their words low and clipped, filled with intent that made his blood boil.

“...been tracking her. She was here earlier, I’m sure of it.”

“She’s got to be close. Spread out.”

Beck’s wolf growled low in his chest, the sound barely audible but filled with menace. His sharp gaze swept the area, searching for any sign of Irene.

A flicker of movement caught his attention—a flash of fiery red hair disappearing behind a boulder. Relief surged through him, but it was quickly drowned out by a wave of anger.

You’re in way over your head, Irene.

The hunters began to spread out, their weapons gleaming faintly in the fading light. Beck’s wolf pushed against his control, eager to unleash its fury on the men who dared to threaten what was his.

But he held back, pulling off his clothing, and waiting for the right moment.

As the lead hunter stepped closer to Irene’s hiding spot, Beck let out a low, guttural growl that stopped the man in his tracks.

The hunter turned, his eyes widening as Beck emerged from the shadows, his black wolf form towering and bristling with fury.

This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.