Chapter Nine

When Ryker walked out of the shadow and into the familiar space of his bedroom, his knees nearly buckled, unable to believe he’d actually made it.

It had taken forever to get out of there, wandering aimlessly through the dark, never sure of his direction or what was even the right way.

The shine was completely off the new toy. Never again would he step into another dark closet. Four tires and a steering wheel, and even his motorcycle, were the only ways he ever wanted to travel.

Ryker’s arms felt heavy from carrying Nate for so long, but his heart felt even heavier, making it even harder to breathe. He walked through tinsel town on his way to his bed, the shimmering strips clinging to his boots, now a mockery of the joy he’d felt while playing with Ethan.

At the bed, Ryker lowered his mate with the utmost care, his palm settling over the steady rise and fall of Nate’s chest, a fragile rhythm that tethered him to hope.

Clearing his throat, Ryker went to work removing his mate’s shoes, his movements slow, like making his mate more comfortable might somehow coax him into opening his eyes.

Because Ryker was desperate enough at this point to try anything.

He knelt there, studying his mate, willing him to wake up, to say something, anything. Tell him what he smelled. Glare at him for guessing the correct price of a tacky handbag. Hell, even one of Nate’s witty jokes would be a gift, like dialing a fake phone. It dawned on Ryker why his mate had done that. Nate didn’t own one.

“Tell me how to get back in there, baby.”

He brushed aside a few golden strands of hair. The touch grounded him, a quiet reminder that Nate was still here. “I can’t help you fight if I don’t know how to get there.”

Ryker stood, swallowing hard as he tucked the comforter around Nate, terrified at how pale his complexion had become, at how lifeless he seemed.

Don’t. Don’t even plant that seed.

“Ryker?”

He glanced up at the sound of Hyett’s voice. His little brother stood in the doorway, staring disbelievingly at him, but Ryker couldn’t move. It was as if his limbs had turned to lead, his body weighed down by an emptiness that seeped into every corner of his being.

H e couldn’t even find his voice to speak, because if he opened his mouth, he would either start crying or never stop screaming.

“Dad!”

Hyett shouted. “Killian! Ryker’s home!” His brother crossed the room and hauled him into a tight hug, holding on to him as Ryker stared down at Nate over Hyett’s shoulder. Even through the warmth of Hyett’s embrace, all he could see was his mate, small and fragile in the center of the bed, so fucking helpless.

“He has to open his eyes,”

Ryker whispered, pushing the words past the hollow ache in his chest.

“What?”

Hyett pulled back, staring at him with furrowed brows. “What was that?”

Rage twisted inside of Ryker, snaking through him like a serpent ready to strike. It wasn’t right! It should’ve been him, not Nate. His mate had already suffered enough, and now he was trapped with his tormentor.

“I got out, but Nate didn’t.”

Ryker’s fist collided with the wall, a guttural snarl escaping just as his father and Killian entered his room.

The drywall shattered with a sickening crunch, the shards digging into Ryker’s skin as dust filled the air, assaulting his senses with its gritty and musty smell. “My mate is still in there!”

Quinton gripped Ryker’s upper arms, but Ryker violently knocked them away, feeling sick to his stomach as he remembered how Diobno had manipulated him at the diner. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

His father looked taken aback by the intense reaction, staring at Ryker as if he had struck him.

Feeling unsteady and queasy, Ryker took a step back and focused on controlling his breathing. Fuck. He had hugged a monster, had welcomed his embrace, thinking he was being held by the man who meant the world to him.

His real dad.

The thought made him want to scrub his skin raw with steel wool, to eradicate any trace of that vile sensation from his mind.

Killian’s hands rose in a defensive gesture, like he was facing off with a rabid beast. In that moment, Ryker felt like the wild animal he had become.

“Just tell us what happened after you got sucked into the motel,”

Killian said slowly. When his gaze flicked to Nate, Ryker moved closer to the bed, his bear snarling.

Was he truly back home, or was this just another twisted illusion? How could he even trust his own senses anymore? Everything looked and smelled familiar, but he couldn’t be certain if it was real.

“Son, your mate is lying in your bed,”

Quinton spoke cautiously, eyeing Ryker warily.

“His mind,”

Ryker snarled, slamming his index finger violently against his temple. “Nate’s body may be here, but his mind is trapped in an illusion. If I can’t get him to wake up, he may never open those beautiful eyes again.”

He started to pace, ignoring the tinsel tangling over his boots, ignoring the hunger pains that were ripping his gut apart and the migraine pounding at the back of his skull. He had to figure this out.

“We might be able to help if you tell us what’s going on,”

Killian suggested. “You’re tossing us scraps when we need the full meal.”

Ryker opened his mouth to tell his brother to stop using food references when he was starving but closed it when Ethan wandered into the room. The toddler ignored everyone and climbed onto the bed, settling down next to Nate.

“Buddy, now is not a good time,”

Ryker said softly, his throat burning even hotter. “Uncle Nate isn’t feeling good.”

Killian reached to pull the cub off the bed, but Ethan scrambled around Nate, dodging his uncle’s hands. “Bad man.”

“What?”

Ryker frowned, knowing full well his nephew wasn’t calling Killian bad. His brother loved Ethan dearly and would never do anything to hurt him. “What bad man?”

“Bad man hurt Nape.”

Ryker watched as Ethan ran his hand through Nate’s hair, his tiny features pinched. “In here.”

How… Ryker’s heart beat wildly as he approached the bed, lowering to a crouch. “How do you know this?”

“Just like he knew I was a bear,”

Killian said with confusion in his voice.

Ethan curled up next to Nate, resting their heads together, his small fingers brushing through the blond strands. “Want gwapes.”

“Get him some grapes,”

Ryker said, glancing at Hyett. “Give him whatever we have.”

Killian crouched on the other side of the bed from Ryker, the two staring at each other before Killian gave Ethan his attention. “Hey, cub?”

“Huh?”

The toddler glanced at Killian. “Pay whiff snow?”

Ryker staggered backward, falling on his ass. His mouth dropped open slightly as he stared wide-eyed at Ethan.

“What is it?”

Quinton grabbed Ryker’s hand and pulled him to his feet, but Ryker flinched at his touch.

Damn Diobno for making Ryker afraid of his own father.

“Nate’s demon power is…”

Ryker ran a hand over his beard. “Well, he can pull water molecules out of the air. He created a snowstorm in hopes of luring someone to the motel who could help him.” He glanced at Ethan. “Uncle Nate makes snow?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically, smiling. “Pay whiff snow.”

Ryker glanced at Killian. “Your mate’s human. Was his sister?”

After Stewart’s sister had died, he’d gotten custody of his nephew, but Ryker didn’t know too much about her.

Killian nodded, his gaze never leaving the boy’s. “Carol was, but Stewart doesn’t know who Ethan’s father is. I’m starting to suspect the guy wasn’t human.”

He leaned in and inhaled deeply then shook his head. “If he’s preternatural, damn if I can smell it on him.”

Hyett returned, breathing heavily, a giant bowl of grapes tucked in one arm. “Grabbed all of them.”

Ryker’s brows knitted as he stared at the two pounds of purple grapes in a large ceramic serving bowl.

“He can’t eat all of those.”

Killian snatched the bowl from Hyett.

“ Your brother told me to ‘give him whatever we have’ so that’s what I did,”

Hyett argued.

“He’s your brother too.”

Killian glared at Ryker. “Next time, ask how many we have before you order Hyett to grab them. Ethan will try to eat all of them.”

“Gwapes?”

“Fantastic. Now he’s going to want them all,”

Killian groaned, looking toward the ceiling.

“That doesn’t mean you have to give him the entire bowl,”

Ryker shot back.

“Have you tried to tell him no?”

His brother stared incredulously at him. “He gives you this look that makes you feel like your soul is hell bound.”

“Hebown?”

Killian winced. “Please don’t repeat that, especially in front of Uncle Stewart. He’ll kick my butt.”

“Piss a you.”

Ethan gave a firm nod. “Poddy mouf.”

Crossing his arms, Ryker arched a brow. “Just how many times have you slipped up in front of the cub?”

Clearly ignoring them, Quinton grabbed the bowl from Killian and sat on the bed, using the napkins Hyett had provided to smash the grapes. “Hey, bud.”

He held one out for Ethan to grab. “Can you tell Grandpa if you have weird feelings inside your head or body?”

“Grandpa?”

Ryker shook his head, astonished his dad had used the term. “When did that happen?”

His dad scowled at him before turning his attention back to Ethan, who already had grape juice running down his chin. “Maybe a weird feeling in your tummy, buddy?”

“Definitely not a vampire,”

Killian said more to himself. “He’s not craving blood.”

“Not a shifter,”

Hyett added. “He would have shifted by now.”

“Not if he’s only half,”

Ryker reminded Hyett. “That would explain how he knew Killian was a bear.”

“But not how he knows Nate is trapped in his own head with a bad man or that he can make snow.”

Killian looked at Ryker with a smirk. “He seriously dropped a blizzard on you? Damn. The worst a guy has done to me is…” He glanced toward the bed. “Something I can’t say in front of little ears.”

Ethan sat there happily eating the offered grapes but still kept one hand in Nate’s hair, absentmindedly caressing the strands. It was as if the cub was connecting to Nate on a level none of them could comprehend.

“Bewwy,”

Ethan said after swallowing his grape, but he pointed toward his back, not his belly. “Uchy.”

“Itchy?”

Quinton asked, his voice as gentle as a tamed bear, which he was for the cub. “Your back itches a lot, little guy?”

“Gwape pwease.”

He held out his tiny hand, palm up.

“You have to answer my question.”

Quinton tapped him on the nose. “Does your back itch a lot?”

Ethan bobbed his head. “Yup. Gwape?”

He licked his lips, his gazed focused solely on the bowl resting on Quinton’s lap.

“Hang on.”

Killian walked out of the room as Ryker gazed at his mate. They were pressed for time, but he was at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t as if Ryker could go back to the motel, because it was no longer there. The diner had just been an illusion. They’d never left the shadows, and going back wouldn’t do him any good. Ryker had barely made it out and didn’t know how to find his mate’s mind in a black void.

Where in the hell was he supposed to look?

I’m trying, honey bear, but I have no clue how to help you. Not for the first time Ryker wished it had been him who’d stayed behind. His heart ached at what Diobno could be doing to Nate right now.

Killian returned with Stewart, who immediately walked to the bed. But he stared down at Nate instead of sitting. “He’s really good-looking, Ryker.”

“Thanks.”

He’s even better looking with his eyes open and laughing.

“Come here, tater tot,”

Stewart said to Ethan. “I want to look at something.”

“Want gwapes.”

Ethan’s face fell, and his eyes filled with tears. Which was why no one could say no to the kid. Even Ryker wanted to tell Stewart to back off so the toddler could eat two pounds of grapes in peace.

“I’ll give you two if you let your uncle look at your back,”

Quinton said with a smile.

“Pwomise, Gampa?”

Ryker watched his father melt. Now it was Quinton who had unshed tears in his eyes. “Yes, cub,”

he said, throat tight with emotion.

“Gets you right here in the tender feelies.”

Killian patted the side of his fist over his heart. “Old man looks like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.”

Quinton shot Killian a death glare.

“Ryker said it!”

“Seriously, bro?”

Ryker stared incredulously at his brother. “Don’t pin that on me. Dad might cry.”

Killian cracked up. Even Hyett, their serious brother, smirked.

“You can say that while I’m kicking your as—phalt.”

Quinton glowered. “I don’t bawl anything out.”

“Gampa badass!”

Ethan giggled.

A huge grin split Quinton’s face. “That’s right, buddy. You tell them.”

“Please don’t encourage him,”

Stewart groaned. “He’s going to end up in preschool cursing like a sailor.”

“A seasoned bear,”

Killian corrected with a shit-eating grin.

“That’s not something—”

Stewart leaned in closer, his brows knitted as he ran his fingers over Ethan’s back. “What the…”

“What?”

Ryker and his family said in unison, everyone collectively drawing closer.

“Back up,”

Killian growled, eyeing them like he dared his family to defy him. “ He’s my cub.”

Ryker didn’t correct his brother, telling him the boy was only his nephew. Just like he didn’t say anything about Quinton claiming Ethan as his grandson. Well, he didn’t say much about it.

“I’m dying to know,”

Hyett said, taking a step forward. “What is it?”

Killian gazed at Ethan’s back, fully focused on examining the cub. Three full minutes passed before he glanced at them. “He has the start of wings.”

The message must’ve become garbled in the space between them, because there was no way he’d just said…

“What do you mean ‘start of wings’? What kind of wings? Are you sure?”

Ryker shot the questions in rapid succession, ignoring his brother’s order to back up.

He needed to see this for himself.

When he leaned over the bed, making sure to be careful of his mate, Ryker’s brows shot to his hairline.

On both sides of Ethan’s spine was delicate bone tissue protruding about half an inch out of his skin. The lines ran about four inches in length down his back. “Those look like—”

“The start of wings. Just like Killian said.”

Stewart smiled reassuringly at his nephew. “Do they hurt, tater tot?”

“Uchy.”

Ethan wiggled his hips, as if the air itself could scratch them.

Stewart grazed his palm over them a few times. “Does that help?”

It had to, because Ethan let out a long, satisfied sigh. “Gwapes pwease.”

“Who has wings?”

Killian frowned. “Winged beasts, but from my understanding, they have fangs.”

“Your understanding?”

Ryker asked. “You learned that from Damon Frost.”

“My point is he would have fangs if he was a winged beast,”

Killian argued.

“Sorry.”

Ryker blew out a breath. “Nate is just running out of time, and I’m on edge.” He stood there and finally told his family what had taken place after he’d been sucked into the motel like he’d been made of water.

Quinton’s features darkened. “I’m going to kill the son of a bitch. That’s why you didn’t want me touching you.”

Ryker glanced at Ethan, wondering if the toddler was going to pick up the new curse words, but he was too busy eating his grapes, his hand right back in Nate’s hair.

“But Nate didn’t tell you how long before it was too late?”

Hyett asked, his brows pulled together in concern.

“No, and I have no idea how long it’s been since I was stuck wandering around a black void with no way to tell time.”

Ryker squatted, holding his arms over his head as he tried to think, his mate counting on him coming up with a way to rescue him before he lost his sanity.

“No!”

Ethan shouted, his small face a mask of rage. “No hurt Nape!”

Ryker shot to his feet, his heart pounding. “What’s going on, Ethan? Is bad man hurting my mate?”

Everyone gasped when Ethan’s green irises began to swirl, tiny stars shooting through them. He held out his hand toward Ryker.

“What is it, buddy?”

Kneeling next to the bed, he took the cub’s hand in his, instantly transported to… Ryker wasn’t sure, but he froze as images swirled all around him. They moved so fast he could barely keep up with them.

Then they slowed, now drifting gently by.

Memories. Glimpses into Ethan’s life—of his mom, Stewart, and of everyone who lived here.

It was hard to sift through them all. For a kid who was only three, Ethan had a ton of them.

The kid even had a memory of when he’d first learned how to walk, and even one of his mom’s funeral.

Letting Ethan know he was there for him, Ryker squeezed his tiny hand, now fully understanding where he was. Somehow, he was inside the cub’s mind.

A chill passed through Ryker. Turning, he saw a dark corner. When he took a step toward it, Ethan backed away.

Ryker released his small hand. “It’s okay, hon. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“What’s going on?”

Stewart asked, but Ryker ignored his brother-in-law’s voice. Still, it was weird he could hear the people in the room but couldn’t see them.

Cautiously, Ryker walked toward the darkness. Ethan didn’t follow. Good. He didn’t want his nephew frightened, even from the things locked away in his own mind.

The closer Ryker drew, the more the darkness swelled. Whatever was in there, it pulsed with an unnatural energy.

“Ryker.”

He spun when he heard Nate say his name. His mate’s voice sounded weak and exhausted, like he was barely hanging on. “Honey bear?”

Ryker called out, but Nate didn’t answer him.

Ethan slid his hand into Ryker’s, and then pulled him to the right, away from the dark corner.

The farther they walked, the clearer an image became. Ryker’s heart almost gave out when he spotted his mate lying on his side, glistening with sweat, his blond hair matted to his head.

“I’m here, baby,”

Ryker called out, but Nate didn’t acknowledge him.

Ethan stuck his arm out in front of him and waved his finger back and forth, causing Ryker to glance around. “You’re trying to show me where to find him.”

“Yup.”

“If Nate’s body is lying in my bed, am I supposed to physically look for his mind?

“Gwapes!”

Ethan giggled.

“Does that mean I’m right?”

Ethan nodded, but this time he shrugged.

Ryker grinned and ruffled his soft hair. “I’m right, but I have to figure the rest out on my own.”

It was hard as fuck not to run to Nate, to not help him when every instinct in Ryker wanted him too. But this was only an image, not a doorway, and Ryker couldn’t waste time on it.

But if his mate looked that bad, they had less time than Ryker had hoped for.

Ethan tugged on his hand. When Ryker looked down, the cub tapped his nose then sniffed. “Smew.”

Ryker inhaled, the scent of the musty motel filling his lungs.

Shit. Diobno had taken his nephew back to his prison. Ryker’s bear roared, ready to hunt the son of a bitch down.

“But it’s in limbo,”

he said to Ethan. “How do I get there?”

Ethan glanced to his right. It wasn’t that pulsing dark thing in the corner that he was looking at, but it was still a dark place.

“Oh hell no.”

Ryker groaned. Not the fucking shadow again. “I know I’m probably going to get lost, and then I’ll be stuck in there forever.”

“My dark,”

Ethan said. “No stuck.”

Ryker gazed down at him then crouched. “What are you, cub? I just want to know so we can take better care of you.”

Ethan shook his head. He either didn’t know or didn’t want to say.

“Uncle Ryker loves you no matter what you are, cub.”

He kissed Ethan’s forehead. “But it would be so cool if you turned out to be a unicorn.” He chuckled, but Ethan frowned. “No? Then how about a big grizzly bear?”

Ethan scrunched his nose and growled.

“You’re scary, kid.”

He winked then glanced at the shadow. “So, tell me, how do I get home once I get your uncle?”

Ryker wasn’t taking that chance again. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, but total nothingness scared the shit out of him.

Ethan touched his nose.

Eyeing him, Ryker inhaled again, but this time, the smells made his stomach rumble. “You want me to go back to the diner?”

He wasn’t sure he could ever set foot back in the real one after what happened. Yet, that was exactly what he would do if it meant getting his mate back.

Standing, he took a deep breath, drawing a small measure of comfort from holding his nephew’s hand—and another lungful of Roman’s cooking.

But he couldn’t hold Ethan’s hand while going after Nate, and Ryker didn’t want to. He wasn’t taking a toddler on a dangerous rescue mission, even if the boy wasn’t fully human and had some freaky powers that might help.

“Go back to Grandpa.”

Ryker released his hand. “He has your grapes, buddy. And thanks.”

Ethan growled again, his fingers curled into claws. But he wasn’t smiling.

He was telling Ryker how to defeat Diobno.

“If I don’t return, your gift is in my ride, buddy. Make sure Grandpa gives it to you.”

Ethan turned and walked away as if Ryker was worrying over nothing.

Too bad Ryker didn’t have that same confidence.

When he no longer saw Ethan, he turned and glanced at the shadow, blowing out a breath. “Third times a charm, right?”