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Was he writing before I woke up? And if he was, what was he writing? I shouldn’t care; it’s none of my damn business, but I do. So much so that I’m two seconds from reaching for it to see before I remember I couldn’t read it, anyway.
“Rena.”
Ryker’s voice rings out, and I get the feeling it’s not the first time he’s called for me. I shake the thought of the book away and look up to find him watching me. His eyes flick to the book for a moment, but he makes no move to grab it and doesn’t say anything about it.
He nods me toward him, and I join him at the edge slowly. I’m not afraid of heights, not really, but something about not having my beast makes me extra cautious. I’m sure I wouldn’t die from this height, but it probably wouldn’t tickle either.
Okay, maybe I’m a little afraid of heights now.
I move to take a step back, but before I can, Ryker snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest, and jumps! I choke down the scream that threatens to force its way out as we plummet. Screwing my eyes closed, I press my face into his chest.
It lasts maybe two seconds before I feel the ground beneath my feet again, but even still, I don’t move, frozen, though I’m not sure if it’s from fear or the feeling of his arm around me.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I all but jump back, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground.
“Don’t like heights?” he asks, and I can hear his curiosity.
I debate lying for a moment, going so far as to open my mouth, but only the truth comes out when I speak.
“Not usually, but I haven’t been able to feel my beast ever since I found my way here. A fall from any height seems a lot scarier when you’re not sure if you’ll survive it.”
I snap my mouth shut and watch as his eyes widen to match my own.
Shit! Why did I say that?
Stupid, that was so incredibly stupid. Admitting I’m prey to a stranger is one thing, but admitting to him I’m completely unable to defend myself is…
Well, it’s fucking stupid, like I said.
“You can’t sense your beast, like, at all? Not even a little bit?” he asks, and I can hear the doubt. Not that I can blame him. Had someone told me that a few days ago, I would think they’d lost their mind. As it is, I might be the one who’s lost my mind.
“No.” I look down at my feet, unable to keep eye contact as I admit I’m without protection and something so basic that everyone has one. “It’s as if she was never there. If not for me remembering having her, I would think I’ve always been without one.”
I hear him move, and I can’t help but peek up at him from under my lashes, just in time to see him disappear around the side of the house.
What the hell?
Somehow, out of all his possible responses, I hadn’t expected him to storm off like that.
Try to kill me, maybe. Think I’m just some crazy lady he found in the woods and ask me to leave, highly possible. Hell, I’d have expected him to laugh and think I was joking, and even from our brief time together, I’d like to think laughing isn’t something he often does, if ever.
He did none of that, though, and judging by the quick second I saw his face before he disappeared, I think he might actually believe me.
I damn near trip over my feet in my haste to follow him, but by the time I reach the front of the cabin, he’s nowhere to be seen. I make my way back inside, hoping he’s there. I mean, he wouldn’t just leave me here alone, right?
The front door is open, and I take it as a good sign. I doubt he left it open all morning. I step in slowly, looking around just to be sure it’s really him here and not some wild animal or robber, but I don’t see anyone or anything.
“Up here,” Ryker calls from the loft area, and I let out a sigh of relief, closing the door behind me and making my way to the ladder. I hear a thud followed by another right before I reach the top and find Ryker hastily pulling books from the shelves and stacking them on the floor. He doesn’t seem to notice me as he moves back and forth between the two shelves, dropping books into various stacks as he goes. I have no idea what he’s looking for, but he seems to have a system.
“I’ve never heard of a beast going missing,” he says under his breath as he goes, and I’m almost positive he’s talking to himself.
I climb onto the ledge and make my way over to the bed, carefully avoiding his books as I go. He grabs a few more books and adds them to various piles before picking what appears to be a random stack. Making his way toward the bed, he drops the stack on the ground before falling onto the bed beside me.
“I read a lot, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t miss something, and some of these books I’ve never gotten all the way through,” he says, reaching for the first book on the pile. His face is determined as he moves to hand it to me, and while I appreciate the effort and drive to figure this out, I feel terrible that I can’t possibly help him.
I hold up my hand to stop him, and he pauses, letting the book hang halfway between us.
“I’m sorry, I can’t read that,” I say, and he tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, the confusion clear on his face. “I’m not sure what language it is, but it’s not the same as where I’m from.”
