Page 36 of The Storm Within

Groaning, Nate sat up again, scanning his room once more. He teetered sideways a little from his dwindling energy but placed his hand on the bed to stop himself from falling over. “Who are you, buddy?”

I da bear. The child growled, giving a damn good impression of one. Nate’s heart quickened. A bear. No, it had to be the heartache he felt. There was no way the voice was somehow connected to his mate.

“Do you know Ryker?” In Nate’s opinion, false hope was better than no hope.

When the child didn’t answer him, Nate deflated. It was just another carrot dangling in front of him, and he’d stupidly tried to take a bite.

Uncuh Dyke!

Nate slapped a hand over his mouth to silence the loud cry. The name was mutilated, and the child could simply be attempting to repeat it, but Nate had to know for sure. “Where is your uncle?”

Wait. Was this boy the nephew Ryker had mentioned? He racked his brain but couldn’t recall if his mate had given him a name. But if this was the toddler, how on earth was he talking to Nate through a conscious stream?

I pay whiff Nape. The boy had said it in a pout, like he was arguing with someone Nate couldn’t see.

Hold on. Had he said Nape? As in Nate? Did that mean Ryker had made it home or was this all part of some illusion?

“Rug rat?” Nate didn’t care how desperate he sounded. If the child was a lifeline to Ryker, he would beg and plead.

Huh?

He started to ask one more time where Ryker was, but the boy’s question didn’t sound as if it was aimed at Nate. If someone was giving Ryker’s nephew instructions, Nate would be as patient as he had to be.

But a part of him refused to believe this was real, refused to once again hold out hope, only to be crushed under the weight of disappointment.

Wes…wes…wes-ku.

What did that mean? Nate didn’t speak toddler! “I don’t understand!”

He curled his lips in and glanced toward the door, praying Diobno hadn’t heard him. If his uncle had, Nate would claim insanity.

Wes-ku.

Was he saying rest? “Okay,” he replied slowly. “Rest. Gotcha.”

Ku?

“Give me more, rug rat.” Nate waved his hands inward, like he could actually catch the words. Was it his mate who was telling the boy what to say? Nate wanted to talk to his teddy bear so badly that tears sprang to his eyes. He would give anything to hear Ryker’s deep, rumbling voice again, to feel those strong arms wrapped around him.

Nate no longer cared about sensory overload. He would deal with it if that meant being with his mate again. When he was in the diner, he’d wished to be back in the quiet motel, but dead silence was overrated. Nate would take the cacophony of noises and feeling like a relic over this tomb.

Anything to be back with his bear again.

He swayed, feeling lightheaded. If he didn’t stop using bursts of energy, he might lose consciousness. That scared the hell out of him. One, what if he sank deeper into this place, completely forgetting who Ryker was? That was what would happen the longer Nate stayed here. His memories of his former life, of how much time had passed since he'd been imprisoned, and most importantly, Ryker, would fade away, never to return.

Nate would be nothing more than a conscious stream haunting the halls of the deserted motel.

Two, even if he did blink back in, he feared losing the only connection he had to his mate.

“Rug rat?”

The dead silence caused despairing tears to fall. Nate curled into himself and closed his eyes.

Wes…wes…wes-ku.

Nate’s eyes flew open. “Yes?”

He dare! The boy sounded happy. Pay whiff snow.

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