Page 4 of Collar Me Crazy (Hollow Oak Mates #8)

RYKER

T he sound of a car door slamming broke the evening quiet, followed by footsteps on the gravel path leading to the main cabin. Ryker looked up from the medication chart he'd been updating, frowning. He wasn't expecting anyone, and unannounced visitors usually meant either emergencies or trouble.

Both, as it turned out.

"Yoo-hoo! Ryker, honey, I brought you some goodies!"

Twyla Honeytree's voice carried across the sanctuary grounds like birdsong laced with mischief. Ryker set down his pen and headed for the door, already bracing himself. Twyla only made house calls when she had an agenda, and her agendas usually involved other people's business.

She stood on his porch wearing a yellow sundress that had no business looking that cheerful in November, holding a covered basket that smelled like cinnamon and butter. Her wheat-colored hair caught the porch light, and her smile held enough secrets to stock a library.

"Twyla." He kept his voice neutral. "Kind of late for a social call, isn't it?"

"Oh, you know me. Time's just a suggestion anyway." She breezed past him into the cabin without invitation, setting the basket on his kitchen counter. "Besides, I figured you might be hungry. You missed dinner at the Fang again."

"I had things to do here."

"Mmm-hmm." She lifted the cloth covering the basket, revealing what looked like fresh apple turnovers and some kind of bread that practically glowed with warmth. "How's our messenger hawk doing?"

"Recovering. She'll be ready to fly in a couple days." Ryker crossed his arms, staying near the door. "Twyla, what's this really about?"

"Can't an old friend just drop by with baked goods?"

"You could, but you don't. Not without a reason."

Her laugh tinkled like wind chimes. "You know me too well. Fine, fine. I met the most interesting person today. A lovely young seer who just rolled into town following her visions."

Ryker's wolf perked up instantly, ears forward and alert. He ignored it. "Good for her."

"Oh, it gets better. She's looking for someone, you see. Auburn hair, green eyes, keeps to himself." Twyla's smile turned predatory. "Ring any bells?"

"No."

"Liar." She pulled a turnover from the basket and took a delicate bite. "Sonya Sibyl. Ebony curls, brown eyes. Pretty thing, looks a bit like her cousin, Moira, around the eyes. Says her visions have been showing her this mysterious man for weeks."

The description caught him off guard and for some reason the name made it all more clear, though he kept his expression carefully blank.

Sonya. The woman from his dreams had a name, and she was here, in Hollow Oak, looking for him.

His wolf wanted to bolt from the cabin and track her down immediately.

"Never heard of her," he said.

"Uh-huh." Twyla's tone suggested she wasn't buying his act for a second. "Well, I told her where to find you. She seemed quite determined to make your acquaintance."

"You what?" he said sharply, finally giving Twyla his full attention.

"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.

"This is a mistake," he told his reflection. "She's going to take one look at you and run screaming. Probably the smart thing to do."

He heard a car engine in the distance made his decision for him. Panic clawed at his throat as headlights swept across his windows. She was here. Sonya Sibyl was actually here, and he wasn't ready. Would never be ready.

He grabbed his jacket and slipped out the back door, heading for the trail that led to Moonmirror Lake.

If she couldn't find him at the cabin, maybe she'd give up and go back to town.

Maybe he could hide at the lake until she lost interest and moved on to whatever normal life seers lived when they weren't chasing visions.

His wolf snarled at the cowardice, but Ryker ignored it. Running was what he did best.

Even if it felt like tearing his soul in half.