Page 3 of The Storm Within

Not only would he spend Christmas mateless but New Year’s Eve as well. Being single had never bothered him until mates started showing up, leaving Ryker as the last bachelor standing. He hid the depression from his family, but now that he was alone in this barren room, it was as if his suppressed emotions were converging on him all at once.

What he needed was sleep, or at least something resembling rest, but the room felt too foreign, too cold, and too empty.

He got under the covers and shut his eyes, fatigue finally catching up to him. The wind howled outside, and the radiator groaned again, but somehow, it all blurred together into a lullaby.

The sound helped him drift off to sleep, the thought of getting home for Christmas floating through his mind. Despite the storm, Ryker was determined not to miss the holiday with the people who were his entire world.

* * * *

Ryker woke to the sound of muffled arguing again, the voices coming through the thin walls like ghosts haunting his sleep. He blinked, momentarily disoriented as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room.

Fuck. It hadn’t been a bad dream. He was really stuck in this dingy motel.

The radiator sputtered, the room an uncomfortable blend of too hot and too cold. With a deep yawn, he scrubbed his face, the springs creaking in protest as he sat up.

The argument next door carried on, more distinct now, though the words were still indecipherable. Curiosity gnawed at him, and before he could convince himself to mind his own business, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

“Oh, oh, oh, crap.” The floor was freezing under his socked feet, the cold seeping into his bones. “I’m really starting to hate this place.”

Ryker shoved his feet into his boots, tied them, and then opened the door. As he stepped into the hallway, the dimness felt even more oppressive. The air somehow smelled even staler, and the flickering light overhead was getting on his last nerve.

Admittedly, he was cranky as shit for being trapped in a motel instead of being at home. Ryker could possibly get over the conditions of this place, but he was also starving and doubted there was room service.

There was barely sufficient lighting and warmth.

Ryker stood there, listening again to the muffled voices. What if someone was being abused? Now that he’d had some sleep and his brain was somewhat rebooted, he couldn’t simply stand by and do nothing if someone needed help.

Before he could take a step in that direction, the door opened, causing him to pause.

A guy stepped out, his frame small and slight compared to Ryker’s own bulk. The stranger had a mop of messy blond hair, disheveled enough to demand attention, the faint glow of the hallway light brushing against the unruly strands.

Ryker’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as something sharp and sudden wrenched at him—a sensation he couldn’t name but felt deep in his core.

It wasn’t attraction, not exactly. It was more. The kind of more that stripped the air from his lungs and left him standing there, stupid and frozen, caught in a moment he didn’t understand but couldn’t escape.

The blond glanced up, their gazes locking, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. There was something unguarded in the way he looked at Ryker, like he’d caught the stranger mid-thought, unprepared.

Then, the corner of the guy’s mouth hitched upward, and he offered a grin—soft, dimpled, and disarmingly beautiful. It wasn’t just a smile. It was a spark, small but bright, that lingered in the stillness between them. “Guess we’re both up for the late-night hallway club, huh?”

Ryker blinked then snorted, his lips twitching. “Something like that. Kind of hard to sleep with all the arguing going on.”

A glint of something unreadable passed behind the man’s eyes. “My, uh…friend’s having a bit of a rough night.” He shifted his weight, his gaze darting briefly toward the door he’d just come out of.

The strange sensation continued to build in Ryker’s chest, like an itch under his skin, paired with a need to get closer. His bear softly growled as the faint scent of peppermint drifted toward him. It was subtle, almost lost under the musty odor of the hallway, but it was there. Ryker inhaled deeply, his bear growling even harder now.

Then it struck him like a thunderclap, sharp and undeniable.

Mate.

The word reverberated in his mind. His heart giving a hard, jarring thud, stunned that a freak snowstorm had led him here.

“Name’s Ryker.” He stuck out his hand, hoping he didn’t look as flustered as he felt.

The blond eyed the offered hand for a beat before shaking it, his grip surprisingly firm. “Nathan, but I prefer Nate.” His smile returned, more genuine this time, and Ryker felt heat ignite in his gut, battling the chill of the hallway.

They stood there, hands still clasped, longer than was probably necessary, but Ryker didn’t give a shit. The human was his mate, and he was completely captivated by him.

“The storm bring you here?” Nate cocked his head in the cutest way.

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