Page 5 of The Storm Within

Fucking perfect.

With the sudden storm that had moved in, his dad and brothers were probably worried about him. But Ryker had no way of contacting any of them to let them know he was okay and holed up in some retro motel in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe Ebenezer Scrooge had a landline he could use. It was worth a shot. After sliding his boots on, not bothering to tie them, Ryker stepped into the hallway, the air chilly and the overhead lights humming.

It was one in the morning, but inside, it felt like time had stopped, like the storm outside had frozen the world in place. He paused, listening, but it was quiet now, no more arguing next door.

For a moment, he considered knocking on Nate’s door but decided to check for a landline first.

Ryker made his way toward the lobby, the corridor stretching out in both directions, empty, like a haunted maze that seemed endless. The motel felt…odd, the air heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. The creak of a door made him pause, and then he turned toward the sound. It wasn’t Nate’s door, but another, midway down the hall, partially ajar. Ryker sniffed the air, but he didn’t catch anyone’s scent and he didn’t hear any movement.

Weird.

Maybe he’d actually crashed in the snowstorm and this was some bizarre dream he was having as he slowly froze to death.

That wasn’t a comforting thought.

As he walked, his footsteps echoed as the floor beneath the thin carpet creaked underfoot, matching the unease knotting his gut. When he finally made it to the front desk, Otis was nowhere in sight.

Debating for only a moment, Ryker stepped behind the counter and searched for a phone. Then he saw one, an old rotary tucked underneath the counter, sitting on top of a stack of aged and yellowing phone books.

Yes!

Ryker pulled it out and set it on the counter, frowning at the thick layer of dust covering it. His hope began to dwindle, but he picked up the receiver anyway.

Completely dead.

Of course it was, because god forbid something actually go right for him in this place. Grunting, he cradled the receiver then noticed it wasn’t even plugged in, and seriously doubted he would find a phone cord.

The sound of rusted hinges caught Ryker’s attention. When he glanced over his shoulder, he spotted a door behind him, sitting slightly ajar, just like the one in the hallway.

Curious, he peered into the room and saw a tangle of sheets on an unmade bed, but Otis wasn’t in there either. Ryker stepped farther inside, narrowing his eyes as he looked around. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the dresser, a pack of smokes beside it, but the air was dead silent.

A shiver of apprehension crawled up Ryker’s spine. This whole place was wrong, off in a way he couldn’t put into words. He closed the door, making sure it clicked shut before heading back down the hallway.

As he approached the ice machine, a figure stepped out of the shadows, almost making him jump. Jesus fucking Christ! This place was freaking him out. He wasn’t easily unsettled, but this motel had him ready to grab his shit and take his chances with the snowstorm.

Although he would never in a million years admit it out loud, Ryker wouldn’t argue against having his brothers and dad with him right about now. He might be a deadly bear shifter, but if he saw even a hint of a ghost in this bizarre motel, fuck his bag. He was heading for the nearest exit.

Thankfully, the shadow turned out to be Nate.

Ryker relaxed, his shoulders easing as he slowly looked his mate up and down. “You sure like this ancient ice machine, handsome.” A crooked smile tugged at Ryker’s lips. Some companionship was exactly what he needed, that spark of that electricity he’d felt with Nate.

His mate chuckled, but there was a hint of nervousness in the sound, his gaze darting around the hallway before settling on Ryker. “You caught me. I’m addicted to slightly melted motel ice that tastes like metallic tap water.”

“Must be a rare vintage.” With a smirk, Ryker crossed his arms as he studied the blond. “Seriously, though, you okay?”

With all the arguing he’d heard, Ryker needed to reassure himself that the slim human wasn’t being abused by Dark Eyes. If the bastard had lain a single finger on Nate, Ryker would eviscerate the son of a bitch.

Nate sank his teeth into his bottom lip, causing Ryker’s gaze to drop to their plumpness, and for a moment, he was dying to know what they would taste like crushed against his own.

“Uh…yeah. I guess.” Nate’s voice was soft, and there was an uncertainty in his eyes that had Ryker wanting to take a step closer.

“You know,” he said, his tone casual as he nudged the conversation forward, “I’ve got a room right down the hall. It’s not much, but it’s warmer than this drafty hallway. You want to hang out for a bit? Maybe get away from…whatever’s going on?” He nodded toward his mate’s room.

He thought he saw a flicker of relief in Nate’s eyes. His mate glanced down the hallway, his gaze lingering on the closed door of his own room. Then he looked back at Ryker, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

Relief flooded him. With Nate in his room, he could keep an eye on the human and maybe find out what was going on.

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