Page 7 of Collar Me Crazy
"Relax, sugar. I didn't give her your exact address. Just general directions. If she's meant to find you, she will." Twyla's eyes twinkled with fae mischief. "And if she's not, well, the mountain roads can be tricky after dark."
Ryker ran a hand through his hair, his carefully constructed peace crumbling around the edges. "Twyla, I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm not interested in meeting anyone. Especially not some seer with visions about me."
"Why not? Afraid of what she might see?"
"I'm afraid of what I might do to her." He admitted before he could stop himself.
Twyla's expression softened, and for a moment, the ancient wisdom behind her youthful face showed through. "Oh, honey. You really think you're that dangerous?"
"I know I am."
"To the right person, maybe. But danger and destiny aren't always enemies." She moved closer, studying his face with those too-knowing eyes. "Some people are strong enough to handle what you carry. Some people are meant to."
"Not this person. Not anyone." Ryker turned away, staring out the window toward the forest. "Tell her I'm not available. Tell her to go home."
"Can't do that, sugar. Already gave my word I'd pass along her message."
"What message?"
"That she needs to see you. Tonight, if possible. Says it's important."
His wolf practically howled at the words, pacing beneath his skin with desperate energy. The pull he'd been feeling all day suddenly made sense. She was coming here, the woman from his dreams, and every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to either run or claim.
Neither was an option.
"Then you can tell her I said no."
"Ryker Matthew Dusk." Twyla's sudden maternal voice gave away that her fae looks suppressed her true age. "Are you really going to hide out here like some wounded animal when destiny comes knocking?"
"It's worked so far."
"Has it? Because in my opinion, you look pretty miserable."
He was miserable. Had been for years, maybe his whole life. But misery was safe. Misery didn't hurt other people.
"I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar." Twyla sighed and headed for the door. "Well, I've done my part. What happens next is between you and fate."
"Twyla, wait." He caught her arm as she reached for the door handle. "What did you tell her about me?"
"Just that you're complicated and keep to yourself. Moira filled in some of the rest I expect." Her expression grew gentle. "She doesn't know about your past, if that's what you're worried about. But she will, eventually. Seers have a way of uncovering buried things."
"All the more reason to stay away from her."
"Or all the more reason to stop running." Twyla patted his cheek like he was still the scared twelve-year-old boy Varric had brought home. "That girl's been seeing you in her visions for weeks, honey. You think that's coincidence?"
"I think that's trouble."
"Maybe. But trouble and blessing look awful similar sometimes."
Ryker stood alone, surrounded by the scents of cinnamon and destiny. His wolf whined for something just out of reach. The woman with ebony hair and warm brown eyes was coming here, to his sanctuary, carrying visions he didn't want to understand.
He should leave. Pack up the essential supplies and disappear into the mountains until she gave up and went home. It wouldn't be the first time he'd run from something that threatened his careful isolation.
Instead, he found himself in the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess, his shirt had stains from treating the hawk shifter, and he needed a shave. Not that it mattered. He wasn't trying to impress anyone.
Fifteen minutes later, he emerged clean-shaven with his hair combed and wearing a fresh flannel shirt. His wolf preened with satisfaction while his logical mind cursed his stupidity.
