Page 18 of Let It Snow (Eden’s Omegaverse #7)

In any case, Moon’s decision to put me through all that was controversial, to say the least. I don’t even know the full details of what really happened to me there, only shadows and fragments, each darker than the last. Moon has it all on his conscience.

I collapse onto the bed and curl up, trying to pull more memories out of the fog, to piece together everything that happened in Anzo’s stronghold.

But today the images won’t sharpen; the brief flashes I’ve had are all I’m living with for now.

Soon, Lake brings lunch to my room.

He looks radiant as always, smiling, his turquoise eyes bright with joy. I feel a bitter twist watching him. No wonder he’s always in such a good mood; he has his fated mate.

The guy gets to ride the dick of his TM every fucking day, in fact, several times a day, and it shows. It’s the way Trues have their sexual life: super intense, sex’s an energetic engine for their Bond.

No surprise Lake’s calm, happy, relaxed. He came back from the mall straight into the arms of his impatiently waiting fated mate, and they jumped straight to bed. Sure, he took a thorough shower, but I can still smell it. My omega nose picks up the faint trace of recent sex.

I feel stupid for my unhealthy jealousy. Lake has earned his happiness. He suffered, and he deserves all the good things in the world. I shouldn’t be so petty; envy only draws negative energy. But still, I can’t help feeling even more dejected; his happiness shows me what I lack.

"How are you, sweetheart?" he asks warmly as he sets the tray down. "I want you to know that Ragnar leaving changes nothing here. You’re our guest. You’re part of our family now, and our families are connected forever."

Those words sit with me, and for a short moment I let them be enough. But then… suddenly they’re just not enough.

I bite down on my lip and lower my head.

There are things I need to get off my chest, so I grab my phone and type. The not knowing is eating me alive.

My question is pretty direct.

"My clairvoyant brother, Moon, is convinced I’ll find my True Mate soon. Snow has something like that too, right? Some kind of foresight skill, even if it’s not exactly the same. Did he ever mention me coming here? Is it possible he and I are TMs?"

I show him the screen.

Lake lifts the phone closer to his eyes. While reading, the color rises in his cheeks.

Then his bright eyes meet mine.

"Snow’s been saying for a while, at least a year, that he’s been working on drawing perfect mates for our family members.

It’s already worked for a few of his brothers.

He also said he’s been trying to bring in his own fated mate.

" Lake hesitates. "Once he told me his mate would arrive right before the fall. So… it fits."

I quickly turn away, fixing my eyes on the aquarium. The betta swims in slow arcs, its long, veil-like fins moving like silk in the water. We both watch it for a while in silence.

Then I type again.

"I admit, something pulls me toward him, but I don’t know what it is. I’m afraid to explore it, because I still don’t know what exactly happened to me in the fortress. What trauma is hiding there."

Lake sighs. "Summer, don’t put pressure on yourself.

Until there’s actual physical contact, the Pull between True Mates—if that’s what this is—won’t kick in right away.

That gives you time to settle into it. What matters most is that you feel safe before you make any choices.

After the First Touch the Pull takes over.

Then you won’t be able to stay apart for more than a few days without physical pain.

That’s how it works for True Mates. I went through it with Aiden. "

"Why does Snow use Allure suppressants?"

Lake sighs. "I didn’t ask. It may be to give you both more time. The Allure can also trigger Pull if scented in its full potency."

I stay quiet at that, my face probably darker than I mean it to be. Lake leans a little closer.

"Patience, Summer. If it’s meant to show itself, it will. Just breathe. Let yourself heal your past. There’s no rush, right?"

"Snow could help me. He composed this… music that makes me remember more. But I'm too afraid to dive into it."

Lake’s face becomes pensive. He doesn’t answer, but after a minute or so, he taps the edge of the nest like a stand-in for a reassuring pat on the hand.

"Summer, it all… will be okay. Just keep your head up. Things tend to fall into place when they’re ready," he adds, whatever that means.

He gets up and walks to the window, staring out. His expression softens into thought, like he wants to say something more, explain something, but in the end he just exhales quietly.

"Let me know if you need anything. If you’d like us to bring in a therapist, that could help unravel your past in a more… controlled way; don’t hesitate to ask. Whatever you want, really. Don’t be afraid to come to me."

I nod, mostly for his peace of mind.

When he finally leaves the room, I decide to busy myself with fixing up my nest; a few ribbons have come loose, and some spots need to be redone.

I have no idea how much time has passed.

But my phone suddenly starts vibrating.

I blink in shock. I know only Ragnar and Sun have my number, so who could it be?

The call comes from a blocked number.

Fear takes over, intense and paralyzing.

What if it’s… Rocco?

He found me…

I start to tremble, but then the ringing stops. A moment later, a text appears.

"It’s us, sweetheart."

I squeeze my eyes shut. My parents. Of course.

But how am I supposed to talk to them? How am I supposed to force words out, words they could even understand?

The phone rings again. With hesitation, I swipe the green button.

"Hello?" a voice says on the other end.

I clear my throat. It takes almost everything in me to speak; the pain is blinding.

"Dad?"

"Oh my goodness, it’s you, sweetheart. We’ve been so worried! Ragnar told us everything. Luca too, he explained what happened with you and Moon. He helped us so much when Anzo had us trapped and blackmailed…"

I shut my eyes tight. No. Too much. Too much intensity. I can’t handle it. I can’t talk to them.

"I have to go," I blurt out, and hang up before I can break any further.

Almost instantly, another message comes in.

"Honey, what’s happening? Are you safe? We’re so scared for you!"

Sighing, I type back.

"Dad, I hope Ragnar explained everything. I’m not ready to talk right now. Whatever Anzo gave me messed me up. Sometimes the nerves freeze me, sometimes it hurts just to think about the past. And to speak. But I’m safe here at Sun’s parents’ house."

Silence. Then a reply lights up my screen.

"My goodness, child, we want you here with us. You shouldn’t be there on your own! If you’re in such rough shape, it’s better for you to recover with us. We bought a little house. It's beautiful here, peaceful; you’d love it. Please, think about coming!"

Admittedly, the thought had already crossed my mind. With them, I’d be safer, calmer. But I can’t leave yet. Not until I know for sure if I’ve found my fated.

"Not right now. I need to stay here. I’ll reach out when I feel stronger, but for now I need more time. There are things I have to figure out first, but I promise I’ll let you know."

Even writing it feels draining.

Not because of pain this time, but because of the weight pressing down on me, the inner conflict I can’t shake. Deep down I know I belong with my parents. They’re my real family, not the Nolans. And yet something holds me here, something I can’t let go of.

My fingers tremble over the screen, my energy folding inward like a collapsing puffball.

I feel guilty, giving them so little when they want so much; they care about me.

But the truth is, their intensity overwhelms me.

Their worry, their constant attention, that old overprotectiveness I remember from when I was a teenager, it’s too much now.

I can’t face it. I’ve changed. I’m not the same kid I was, for better or for worse.

I crave… more.

Outside, night is starting to fall.

I feel the need to let go, to relax, maybe slip out into the twilight and swim a little. Alone. Water has always calmed my mind, and lately it’s been nothing but chaos, stress, and uncertainty.

I grab a towel, but among all the things I bought for myself, I never thought to get trunks, so I just take a pair of black boxer briefs.

I climb down the ladder, moving unseen along the paths. The garden is lit only faintly here and there by small solar lamps, soft colors glowing in the dark. It feels pleasant.

I step onto the beach. The water is dark, but that doesn’t bother me. It almost feels like a challenge, like maybe part of my pain and my past could dissolve into that darkness. I look carefully around to make sure no one’s nearby, then strip down and toss everything onto the sand.

I walk toward the water’s edge.

It’s so calm and shadowy. When I dip my feet in, the warmth surprises me.

The lake has been soaking up the sun all day.

Step by step I wade in deeper. The bottom slopes gently instead of dropping off, and I like that.

Under my toes I feel sand instead of muck.

Maybe the Nolans hauled it in to make the beach more welcoming.

Whatever the reason, it suits me perfectly.

Finally I dive all the way in and start swimming.

I’ve always been a decent swimmer. My parents had a pool, and ever since I was a kid, I’d swim in it to stay fit.

In that way, I understand Snow, his training, and his passion for the water.

They feel close to my own, even though I never worked at it with his discipline or for as long as he has.

And I don’t swim freestyle. I just move with a steady breaststroke, head above the surface, and it’s deeply soothing.

I’ve perfected that stroke so I can go on for ages without tiring.