Page 12 of Let It Snow (Eden’s Omegaverse #7)

Then I move to the bathroom, knowing the dildo has a suction cup. I stick it to the wall.

I still don’t know if I have any trauma tied to my hole, if I’ve ever been hurt, forced to play the role of a mafia sexual slave. Maybe that’s a good moment to test it. Now I can see if my body will resist or not.

The fantasy already waits for me: his hard, water-covered body, pressed against my back, pushing into my ass.

I strip off my clothes. Eyes closed, back to the wall, I press my hole onto the dildo tip.

I listen to my body, scared of feeling pain, fear, or anxiety…

but nothing emerges. The dildo slides in, and I gasp.

Unexpected, pleasurable shivers come over me as the object fills me.

I push my hips back toward the wall, letting it fill me completely.

My ass presses against the cold tiles, the toy deep inside.

One hand grips the faucet, the other the edge of the shower door, and I start rocking my hips forward and back.

I imagine the hardness in my ass is his cock. Snow approaches me on a lake beach, as I sit on a rock there, bends me, and takes me like I’m his property. The thought makes me hotter as I picture it in my head.

I start thrusting, bouncing my hips against the wall, letting the dildo hit a sensitive spot inside me, sending electric thrills through my body. My breath grows short.

After a moment, I add a second stimulus. I let go of the faucet and grab my cock. Double stimulation. Masturbating and getting fucked by the dildo at the same time. It’s amazing.

I press my back to the wall, still vigorously thrusting my hips forward and back, lost in the sensation. For what feels like forever—but in reality is only seconds—my hunger wins, and the peak starts.

Yeah…

A white stream shoots from between my fingers.

I exhale loudly, a sigh of relief escaping me.

Oh fuck.

The orgasm is blissful, filling a void inside me.

But it isn’t complete; some emptiness remains.

I stay impaled on the dildo for a moment before pulling back and rinsing off in the shower.

My head is calmer but… just vacant.

I clean the dildo, and after a moment of hesitation, leave it stuck to the wall. Why not? It’s my bathroom, no one else uses it.

Then I go back to my room and stand by the bed for a while, still catching a slight scent of my slick in the air.

There is silence, and a feeling of loneliness returns, and suddenly I feel… tired.

Lonely.

I climb into my beautiful nest and fall asleep quickly.

◆◆◆

When I open my eyes, the room is filled with sunlight.

Where am I?

Who am I?

Panic rises. I’m lying in a bed, but as I spread my hands out, I find a nest, big and solid, smelling like… safety! I recognize the dominant fragrance; I must have been the one who built it, saturating it with my scent secreted from my wrist glands.

It gives me energy, an impulse, a strange urge to push through the fog.

I know it has already happened before, a ‘reset’.

The nest helps me, soothing my panic attack, making space for order instead of chaos.

My memory slowly, gradually unlocks.

And suddenly, I remember who I am, why I’m here, and I know who the Nolans are, along with their… hot son, Snow.

I let out a slow, soothing breath.

Yes, finally! It worked!

My fingers clutch the nest.

I’m grateful; it saved me and gave me the strength to deal with the amnesia myself, without relying on others anymore. I’m happy about it.

Now, feeling calmer, I glance around. I don’t know the exact time, the laptop is off, and there’s no clock on the walls.

But the sun is already high enough that I can guess it’s at least eleven thirty.

On the nightstand beside me is a tray covered by a glass dome. I realize the food went cold long ago, but I don’t complain.

The toast is dry, and the pancakes are stiff. I wonder if Lake brought them, but when I lean in and breathe the scent from the handle, I know it wasn’t him. It’s the beta I saw in the kitchen the day I came here, Jordan.

After eating my cold meal, I go out on the balcony. I feel slightly tempted to go downstairs, maybe check on Ragnar and Sun.

But I push it aside when I realize my speech problem is still there. A breathy sound escapes me when I try to say something, just to test it, and it makes me give up.

So I sit in the little chair, adjust the umbrella to block the sun, and stay quiet. For some reason, I’m a bit calmer today, so I guess the nest made a real difference.

I take a deep breath.

A breeze drifts in from the lake, carrying the fragrance of flowers blooming in the garden. It settles around me like a soft mist. I relax… but not completely.

The low-key dull pain is still there.

It hasn’t disappeared. I just kind of get used to it. It hums like a nest of wasps at the far end of my awareness. I know it will sting me the moment I break the rules, if I dare to reach for memories, for words.

Then I hear a sound. A soft, sweet tune. Snow is playing his harmonica again. The melody is wistful, sentimental, and longing.

I close my eyes, realizing the music is different today.

It doesn’t bring back my memories, but… it eases the pain, strokes its edges, soothing it like balm. For a while, I let myself exist in the muted space the sound creates.

Does Snow know?

How can he know what I need right now?

The balcony is set maybe fifty feet above the ground; that height makes me feel distant from other people’s lives below, and I like that distance.

An hour passes; the harmonica never stops, its music creating a calming presence. I don’t know where he’s hiding, but I don’t need to know. All I need is the comfort it brings, an hour free from anxiety.

Thank you, Snow.

When the sun climbs higher and the heat grows heavier, I go back inside. The room is cool from the air conditioning, even though the roof above must be burning hot.

That’s when I hear a knock at the door.

Lake steps in, so radiant, and his face brightens even more when he sees me.

"Hello, Summer. I hope you slept well. I wanted to let you know I’m going to the mall. I’d like to pick up some things for you. If you have a list of essentials you need, please let me know."

I bite my lip; still, I stay silent, even taking a step back until my shoulders touch the wall. I don’t want to go anywhere, but…

He watches me for a moment, as if he can read that unspoken wish in my eyes.

"Maybe I’ll just drive and get what I feel you may need the most."

Only then do his eyes land on my bed, and he blinks.

"Oh. And I see you already have the important stuff." He grins. "So I’ll focus on some nice outfits, since I feel bad about leaving you with all these old T-shirts."

His nostrils flare slightly; he’s obviously sniffing for my Allure.

"Mm… your scent reminds me of violets and lilies. I’ll try to find toiletries that match your natural fragrance," he adds with a warm smile.

Still I say nothing. The discomfort grows heavier. I don’t know if I should thank him or offer to join him. I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I feel a bit overwhelmed.

Lake seems to understand. I don’t sense the slightest offense in him. His expression is gentle, almost sweet.

He’s beautiful, really. An exceptionally attractive omega. He really looks in his mid-thirties, though of course I know he’s much older.

His hair falls to his hips in a pale golden braid. His eyes are turquoise, clear and bright, framed by long lashes. Sun and Snow inherited many of his features.

The silence is pressing on me. I don’t want to be a dick to him; he’s so nice.

I want to say something, to express gratitude for his hospitality.

So I force myself to fight through the discomfort.

It feels like digging through a tunnel of snow, but I push forward.

With immense effort, I pull one sentence from my throat.

"Thank you."

"Oh, sweetheart. You don’t need to thank me. I understand your situation so well. I was once in the exact same place as you. I spent nearly a year in hell before I came to the home of my current husband, who turned out to be my True Mate."

Lake pulls out his phone, scrolls through his gallery, then turns the screen toward me.

I hold my breath.

The image is horrifying.

It shows Lake, years younger, maybe my age, his face covered in scars: faded scratches, cigarette burns, small cuts, his beautiful eyes like those of a frightened animal.

The sight is unbearable.

I blink and swallow in disbelief.

He truly had been in hell! The magic of True Mates healed his wounds, inside and out, but this picture is living proof of the torment he endured.

The shock is so strong that a sharp cry slips out of me. He didn't exaggerate earlier; and his horror was even worse than mine.

Without thinking, on pure impulse, I fling my arms around him and clutch him tight.

He exhales in surprise at my sudden move, his body stiffening slightly, as if even for him my desperate clutch is too intense. Only his hands respond, gently patting my back.

"Okay, okay. It’s all right now, Summer. All that pain and suffering was healed by the Bond I have with Aiden. The magic of fated mates blurred the memories. I barely even recall it; it feels like some distant dream that means nothing, like something that happened in another universe."

Slowly, I let him go. His scent is sweet and calming. There’s something strangely therapeutic about being near him, as if his gentle energy washes over mine.

Lake smiles softly again, encouraging. We’re standing right in front of each other now as he lifts his hand and brushes my cheek.

I shiver, because it’s his initiative, not mine, and it takes effort not to jump back, the feeling sending a wave of unease through me.

But for some reason I forgive him, just him.

"I believe things will change for you too, that time will heal your wounds, Summer," he says solemnly.