Chapter Three

“Any luck yet?”

Quinton was reaching his breaking point, tempted to dial Ryker for the millionth time. He’d already sent multiple texts, but his son hadn’t responded to any of them.

“Nothing. Just like everyone else who’s tried to contact him, my calls keep going straight to voicemail.”

Killian set his phone aside, appearing just as concerned as the rest of them.

Quinton chewed on the corner of his lower lip, knowing damn well Ryker wouldn’t go radio silent.

It was never easy seeing your child—no matter their age—struggle with something you couldn’t solve. As a parent, it felt instinctual: fix it or kill it. Yet this time, there was nothing Quinton could do but watch.

The loneliness in his son’s eyes had been unmistakable lately. Being the last of them without a mate had worn on Ryker, no matter how much he tried to hide it. But even with that weight on his shoulders, Quinton couldn’t imagine his son intentionally causing his family to worry.

Over the past month, Ryker had talked about riding his motorcycle on the open road, the way all four of them used to. Honestly, Quinton missed that too, but his eldest wouldn’t leave without a word or miss Christmas, a holiday they’d always spent together as a family.

Besides, when Quinton spoke to him yesterday, Ryker mentioned a special trip he was taking that afternoon and had promised to be back before dark.

It was now nearing dawn.

“What’s his last GPS location?”

Quinton asked, his focus darting to his grandson—technically his grandnephew—playing with Wesley and Noah on the rug.

Killian glanced at his phone, his brow furrowing. “About thirty minutes from here.”

Quinton nodded grimly, his concern growing. Hyett stood a few feet away, tapping his phone against his thigh, his jaw set. None of them liked being out of touch with each other.

Whenever any of them traveled far from home, they shared their location. It was not only a safety precaution but provided peace of mind.

But Quinton’s mind wouldn’t find any peace until he knew Ryker was safe and unharmed.

“Dad, what’re you thinking?”

Killian gazed curiously at him.

“I’m thinking we should drive to Ryker’s last known location and try to figure things out from there.”

Quinton stood, anxious and ready to take action instead of waiting around for Ryker to contact them.

“I’m in.”

Killian shoved his phone into his back pocket then headed for his coat.

“Me, too.”

Hyett stood then glanced toward the mates and cub playing on the rug, more than likely thinking the same thing as Quinton. “On second thought, I’ll stay here with the mates and cub.”

All three humans had been going through some sort of crisis when they’d met their mates. Although to be fair, Stewart hadn’t had trouble dogging his heels. He and Ethan had moved into a rental house which, unbeknownst to them or the owner, had turned out to be a drug-stash house.

Quinton’s blood still boiled at the memory of that drug dealer pressing a gun to Ethan’s head and demanding his merchandise.

“Dad?”

Killian’s deep voice brought Quinton back to the present. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat.

If Ryker was in some kind of trouble, Quinton and his sons wanted Wesley, Noah, Stewart, and Ethan protected just in case the danger blew their way. They didn’t fuck around when it came to the safety of the people they cared about and wouldn’t hesitate to bury the body of anyone who dared to threaten the mates and cub.

Ethan gazed up at Killian with his innocent green eyes. “Where Uncuh Dyke?”

They all knew that Ryker blamed himself for Ethan being held at gunpoint, even though it hadn’t been his fault. But since then, the two had formed a strong bond. The little boy adored Ryker and had even learned how to FaceTime so he could talk to Ryker on the phone.

Quinton secretly suspected Ethan was just excited to learn how to video call someone, because he called all of them at least twice a day. However, he seemed to call Ryker more often, which Quinton’s eldest got a kick out of.

“We’ll find him, cub,”

Killian reassured Ethan, ruffling the boy’s blond hair before embracing Stewart and kissing him.

Grabbing his coat, Quinton did the same, kissing Noah and promising to return soon. Then he and Killian set out on a mission to find Ryker and bring him home.

* * * *

As Ryker gradually woke, his senses picked up on… He wasn’t sure, but his instincts told him to stay still, keep his eyes closed, and remain calm until he could assess the situation and figure out what had his bear on edge.

It struck him that the air smelled different. Heavily different. The overwhelming scent flooded his nostrils, a sharp and pungent odor that drowned out the usual musty stench of the motel. Ryker mentally shifted his attention to the feel of Nate curled up at his side, who was still seemingly asleep.

Which made Ryker even more determined to figure out what was going on in his room. His mate was right next to him, human and defenseless.

Remaining still, he focused on every detail he could gather with his heightened senses. It was too quiet, the storm that had raged outside all night now eerily absent. Not even a whisper of wind against the window.

Finally cracking an eye open, Ryker took in the pre-dawn light filtering into the room and scanned for any signs of danger. They were alone, but that overpowering scent still lingered, almost like it was coming from...

Right beside him.

Furrowing his brows, he leaned closer and sniffed. The demon scent was coming from Nate.

What the hell? It made no sense. But as Ryker lay there, his thoughts spinning, the pieces began to click together. The sudden snowstorm that appeared out of nowhere, the strange arguments next door, this eerie motel with its abandoned atmosphere and now, the unmistakable scent of demon coming off the guy snuggled up next to him.

Nate had masked his scent to hide the fact he wasn’t human.

The realization sent a surge of rage through Ryker, and he jerked away from Nate’s touch with a snarl. His mate blinked, looking disoriented as he sat up, his eyes widening in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“You,”

Ryker snarled, his anger barely contained. “You and your friend have been playing me this entire time.”

Nate’s eyes widened even farther, his mouth hanging open slightly. He glanced around, clearly panicked, which only confirmed Ryker’s accusation. “Please, you have to keep your voice down,”

he said, his own voice trembling. “You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.”

Ryker narrowed his eyes, the growl in his voice deepening. “You’re a lying demon who has been deceiving me this whole time. You and your buddy… Whatever twisted game you’re playing, it ends now.”

“No, it’s not—”

Nate protested, desperation laced through every word.

“Save it.”

Ryker’s sharp tone cut him off. “Don’t even bother trying to explain. I don’t know why I’m here or why you’ve been playing me, but I’m done with this bullshit.” He strode toward the window and yanked aside the curtains, revealing snow which was melting rapidly outside.

“You caused that storm, didn’t you?”

Ryker’s voice became chillingly calm, barely masking his fury. “Was it to lure me here? Is that it, huh? You and your friend trap unsuspecting travelers here to play some sick game with them? You think this is all a joke?”

Nate shook his head, his face paling. “It’s not like that,”

he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. He didn’t look like someone who would trap another being for fun. But Ryker had already fallen for his act once. He wasn’t about to do it again.

Demons didn’t know who their mate was until they had sex with the person, but Nate still should’ve felt something between them. Since they’d met, the guy had gravitated toward him. Ryker was certain his mate felt their connection.

Which made his deception all the more confusing and treacherous.

“Why should I believe you?”

Ryker’s voice lowered to a bitter murmur. “You’ve been hiding the fact you’re a demon the whole time, Nate.”

He felt like a fool for trying to protect his mate against the stranger in the other room when it had been Ryker who’d needed protection from… Well, he wasn’t sure since he had no idea what they were up to.

Nate’s eyes glistened as he looked down, but not before Ryker saw guilt in them. It wasn’t just guilt though. It was something raw and unspoken, a quiet plea for understanding.

Nate opened his mouth then hesitated before whispering, “It’s Diobno.”

Before Ryker could respond, a familiar voice echoed through the motel walls, rough and worried.

“Ryker! Ryker, where are you?”

His father.

Relief surged through him, followed by a rush of urgency. He glanced over his shoulder, torn between the truth in his mate’s eyes and the risk he posed to everything Ryker cared about. Was the demon a threat to his family? Ethan came to mind. Could Nate even be trusted around the toddler?

“Where are you, son?”

Quinton’s voice boomed again, closer this time.

With one last look at Nate, Ryker yanked open the door to his room and walked out into the hallway, his heart hurting as he made his way toward the sound of his father’s voice.