Page 2 of The Right to Bear Claws (Hollow Oak Mates #6)

KAIA

K aia Monroe woke to the scent of lavender and old wood, her mind floating somewhere between sleep and consciousness where dreams felt more solid than the soft mattress beneath her.

For a moment, she clung to the fragments of those dreams. A silver-eyed guardian watching over her.

Strong arms pulling her from cold, dark water.

A voice like distant thunder promising safety.

Then reality crashed in with all the subtlety of a freight train.

She bolted upright, heart hammering against her ribs as she took in her surroundings.

A cozy room with hand-stitched quilts and antique furniture that belonged in a fairy tale, not her scattered life of cheap motels and borrowed couches.

Sunlight streamed through lace curtains, painting everything in warm gold that should have been comforting but only made her feel more displaced.

Where the hell was she?

"Oh dear, you're awake. I am so glad you're alright.

" A woman's voice, warm with a hint of mountain drawl, drew Kaia's attention to the doorway.

The speaker was somewhere in her sixties, silver hair pinned back in a neat bun and half-moon spectacles perched on her nose.

She carried a steaming mug and wore the kind of genuine smile that made Kaia's throat tight with unexpected emotion.

"I was starting to worry you might sleep clear through to Halloween. "

"I..." Kaia's voice came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again, forcing her lips into the bright smile that had gotten her through countless awkward situations. "I'm sorry, I don't remember... where am I exactly?"

"Hollow Oak, dear. You're in my inn." The woman moved closer, setting the mug on the nightstand. "I'm Miriam Caldwell. And you, according to the man who pulled you from our lake, are in need of some serious TLC."

Hollow Oak. The name whispered through her mind like an echo, familiar yet impossible. She'd never heard of any place called Hollow Oak, but something deep in her chest recognized it anyway.

"The lake?" Kaia touched her throat, where the pendant she never removed still rested against her skin. Her crescent moon, the only constant in a life of constant motion. "I don't... I can't remember how I got there."

Miriam's expression softened with understanding. "Memory can be slippery after trauma. Don't push too hard. It'll come back when you're ready."

But that was the problem. Kaia remembered plenty, just nothing that made sense.

Dreams of walking through mist-wrapped forests that hummed with magic.

Visions of a town where impossible things were perfectly normal.

And always, always, the sensation of being pulled toward something she couldn't name.

"Drink your tea," Miriam said gently. "Chamomile and a few other things to help settle your nerves. You've had quite the ordeal."

Kaia wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth seeping through the ceramic. "Thank you. For everything. I know I must be imposing..."

"Nonsense." Miriam waved away her protests with the efficiency of someone who'd heard this particular worry before. "Hollow Oak takes care of its own, and anyone who needs help is welcome here. That's just how we do things."

Takes care of its own. The phrase hit something tender in Kaia's chest, a longing she'd carried for so long she'd forgotten it was there. What would it be like to belong somewhere like that? To have people who considered her worth protecting?

"I should probably get going," she said instead, because wanting things that seemed too good to be true was a luxury she'd learned not to indulge. "I don't want to be a burden."

"Where exactly are you planning to go?" Miriam's tone was kind but pointed. "Do you remember where you came from? Who to call?"

Kaia opened her mouth to answer and found nothing there. Not just about how she'd ended up in the lake, but about everything before. Her mind was a patchwork of scattered moments and dream-fragments, nothing solid enough to build a plan around.

"I..." She swallowed hard, the cheerful mask she wore slipping for a moment. "I'm sure it'll come back to me."

A soft knock interrupted them. "Miriam? Is she awake?"

The voice sent shivers racing down Kaia's spine. Deep and careful, like its owner was used to being heard without raising his volume. She knew that voice. From the lake, from the hazy moments between drowning and safety.

"Come in, Elias," Miriam called. "She's awake and doing much better."

The door opened to reveal the man from her fragmented memories, and Kaia's breath caught in her throat.

He was massive, easily six and a half feet of solid muscle barely contained by a flannel shirt and worn jeans.

Dark hair with silver at the temples, like he'd earned every strand through hard experience.

But it was his eyes that made her pulse skip.

Silver-gray and intense, studying her with the kind of focused attention that should have made her uncomfortable.

Instead, she felt safe.

"Hey there," he said softly, carrying a tray that looked absurdly small in his hands. "Thought you might be hungry."

"I'm Kaia," she blurted, then felt heat rise in her cheeks at how breathless she sounded. "Kaia Monroe. You saved me."

Something flickered across his features, too quick to interpret. "Elias Vane. Anyone would have done the same."

That was a lie. Kaia had been on her own long enough to know that most people looked the other way when someone else was drowning, literally or figuratively. But she didn't call him on it, just accepted the tray with hands that trembled slightly when their fingers brushed during the exchange.

The contact sent warmth racing up her arms, settling somewhere behind her ribs like a small sun. His skin was calloused from hard work, warm and steady, and she found herself wanting to hold on longer than propriety allowed.

"Thank you," she managed, setting the tray across her lap. Scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, and toast that smelled like heaven. Real food, not the vending machine dinners she'd been living on. "This looks amazing."

"Miriam's the one who cooked it," Elias said, settling into the chair beside her bed with careful movements. Like he was trying not to spook her. "I just carried it up."

"Still." Kaia took a bite of eggs and nearly moaned at the taste. Rich and creamy, with herbs she couldn't identify. "This is the best thing I've eaten in... well, longer than I can remember."

"Speaking of which," Miriam interjected, "do you remember anything about how you ended up in our lake? Any details might help us figure out where you came from."

Kaia chewed slowly, buying time while she sifted through the mess in her head.

The dreams were so vivid, so real, but underneath them lurked something darker.

Whispers that made her skin crawl. Shadows with eyes that watched her from the corners of her vision.

A voice promising terrible things if she didn't stop running.

"I remember driving," she said finally, focusing on the few concrete details she could grasp. "My car broke down somewhere in the mountains. I was walking, looking for help, and then..." She gestured helplessly. "Nothing. Just waking up here."

It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't entirely false either. The parts she wasn't sharing, the dreams and whispers and creeping sense of dread, felt too fragile to examine in the daylight. Too dangerous to voice aloud.

"Mountain roads can be tricky," Elias said, and there was something in his tone that made her think he understood about keeping secrets. "Easy to get turned around, especially if you're not familiar with the area."

"Where exactly is Hollow Oak?" Kaia asked. "I mean, what's the nearest big city?"

Miriam and Elias exchanged a look that lasted a beat too long. Something passed between them, some kind of silent communication that made Kaia feel like an outsider peering through a window.

"We're pretty remote," Miriam said carefully. "Tucked away in the Blue Ridge Mountains where most people don't think to look. It's a special place, our little town. Folks here tend to be... different. People who don't quite fit anywhere else."

There was weight behind those words, meaning Kaia couldn't quite grasp. But something in her chest responded anyway, a recognition that went bone-deep. People who don't quite fit anywhere else. She'd been one of those people her entire life.

"Different how?" she asked, surprising herself with her directness.

Another look between her hosts. This time, Elias answered. "You'll see for yourself once you're feeling better. Hollow Oak has a way of revealing itself gradually. Nothing too shocking all at once."

The way he said it made her think there would definitely be shocking things, just doled out in manageable doses. The thought should have alarmed her. Instead, she felt a flutter of anticipation.

"I should probably call someone," she said, though she still couldn't think of who that someone might be. "Let people know I'm okay."

"Do you have a phone?" Miriam asked gently.

Kaia looked around the room, taking inventory of her possessions for the first time.

The bohemian dress she'd been wearing was draped over a chair, still damp.

Her pendant was around her neck. And that was it.

No purse, no phone, no wallet. Nothing to prove she existed beyond the clothes on her back and the silver crescent moon against her throat.

"I guess not," she said, fighting to keep her voice light. "Maybe it's in my car? If we could find it..."

"I'll ask around," Elias said. "See if anyone spotted an abandoned vehicle. Until then, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

The kindness in his voice nearly undid her.

Kaia had spent so long being suspicious of generosity, waiting for the catch, the price, the moment when people revealed what they really wanted from her.

But something about Elias felt solid in a way that made her want to trust him despite every instinct screaming that it was too good to be true.

"I can't pay," she admitted quietly. "Not until I figure out what happened to my things."

"Already taken care of," Miriam said briskly. "Consider it Hollow Oak hospitality."

"But I don't understand why you'd..."

"Because you need help," Elias said simply. "And because everyone deserves a safe place to land when they're lost."

The words cut straight through her defenses to the scared, lonely part of her that had been running for longer than she cared to admit. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears that had no business appearing in front of strangers.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Both of you. I don't know what I did to deserve this kind of kindness, but thank you."

"You don't have to do anything to deserve basic human decency," Elias said, and there was something fierce in his voice that made her look up. His silver eyes held hers, steady and unwavering.

Kaia nodded, not trusting her voice. In the growing warmth of the morning sunlight, surrounded by the impossible kindness of strangers, she almost let herself believe it might be true.

But at the edges of her consciousness, the whispers waited. And she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had driven her to that lake wasn't finished with her yet.