Page 10 of Collar Me Crazy
The screaming started justafter midnight.
Twelve-year-old Ryker jolted awake in his den, the sound of his mother's terror cutting through his dreams like a blade. Outside, pack members were shouting, running, the scent of fear and violence thick in the mountain air.
"Stay here," his father commanded, bursting into the den with eyes that flashed between human brown and wolf gold. "Whatever happens, don't come outside."
"Dad, what's?—"
"Promise me." His father's hands gripped Ryker's shoulders hard enough to bruise. "Promise me you'll stay hidden until Varric comes for you."
Varric. The elder wolf from the neighboring territory who'd been visiting their pack, studying old prophecies and asking careful questions about Ryker's birth date. The one who'd looked at him with something between pity and fear.
"I promise."
His father kissed his forehead and was gone, shifting mid-stride as he raced toward the sounds of battle. Ryker pressed himself against the den wall, covering his ears against thecacophony outside. Howls and gunshots and the wet sound of claws tearing flesh.
It felt like hours before the silence fell.
When Varric finally found him, the elder wolf's clothes were torn and bloody, his face grim with the weight of failure. "Come on, son. We need to go."
"My parents?—"
"Gone." Varric's voice was gentle but final. "They're all gone. I'm sorry."
Ryker stumbled outside, and the sight that greeted him would haunt his nightmares for decades. Bodies scattered across the clearing, both human and wolf forms twisted in death. His mother. His father. His sister who'd been planning to mate with the beta's son come spring.
All dead because of a prophecy about a wolf born under a blood moon who would either unite the clans or destroy them all.
All dead because others feared what he might become.
The memory fadedas Ryker reached his cabin, but the shame remained. Fresh and sharp as the day it happened. His pack had died protecting him from those who saw his prophecy as a threat. Varric had brought him to Hollow Oak, given him sanctuary and a chance to build something good.
But prophecies had a way of catching up eventually.
His wolf whined again, flooding him with image after image of Sonya's face when she'd looked at him beside the lake. The wonder in her eyes, the recognition, the way she'd reached out like she wanted to comfort him.
"No," he said firmly, addressing both his wolf and his own treacherous heart. "We're not doing this. We're not dragging her into our mess."
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found the number for the Hearth & Hollow Inn. Miriam answered on the second ring.
"Hollow Oak's finest establishment, Miriam speaking."
"It's Ryker. You have a guest named Sonya Sibyl?"
"I do indeed. Lovely girl, very polite. She's settling in nicely." Miriam's voice carried that careful neutrality she used when she sensed undercurrents. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Tell her I'm not available. If she asks about the sanctuary, tell her we're closed to visitors indefinitely."
A pause. "Ryker, honey, what's going on?"
"Nothing. I just don't want to be bothered."
"Uh-huh." Miriam's tone suggested she wasn't buying his act any more than Twyla had. "And I suppose it's just coincidence that you're calling about our newest guest right after I heard about a little magical flare from the direction of your place?"
Damn small towns. Damn supernatural communities where everyone could sense everyone else's business.
"Just give her the message, Miriam. Please."
"I'll give her your message," Miriam said carefully. "But Ryker? Running from something doesn't make it go away. Sometimes it just makes it stronger."
