Page 19 of Let It Snow (Eden’s Omegaverse #7)

I swim in wide arcs, pulling away from the beach, circling back, again and again. It’s dark, the moon faintly brightening the sky, but there’s no fear in me. Fear lives in my body and mind only when I reach into the past. Out here the water is just… predictable.

As I swim, I get the sense that the night is becoming lighter somehow. I don’t understand why. Did someone turn on a light along the shore? Why does the water look illuminated?

Then I see it. The black around me has shifted into a silver-blue glow streaked with turquoise. I glance down and can see my arms and hands moving beneath the surface.

That’s not the whole change. I stop mid-swim, look farther down, and there they are—my legs are visible clear as day in the water. Impossible at this hour, yet I’m surrounded by clarity, as though I’ve been dropped into a bubble of turquoise light somewhere on sunny tropical waters.

I swim in wonder, encircled by this glowing halo, when something shimmers in the distance and moves closer.

A school of fish. But not ordinary fish.

These… glow. They shine in every color of the rainbow, like light poured into living bodies.

They circle me in a wide ring, keeping their distance just beyond the bright water area, staying in the shadows while I float in the glowing sphere.

What’s happening?

It’s too much to be a trick of my mind. I glance back toward the beach but see nothing, or at least nothing I can be sure of. I have to get to the bottom of this.

With a sudden surge I turn toward shore and push hard. The rainbow fish scatter, the water goes dark again.

I burst onto the beach, determined, a frown forming on my face.

I need to know who’s behind this. I already have my suspicions. Sprinting, I charge into the bushes at the left side of the lake.

The emotions burn through me so hot I can’t hold them in. I force my voice out through the pain.

"Show yourself!"

I run between the shrubs, weaving through the garden paths, but see no one.

Then I think I hear a heartbeat. I stop, scanning the shadows carefully. Above the solar lamps, tiny sparks drift in the air. Not insects! These aren’t regular fireflies. They resemble tiny butterflies, glowing in pastel colors.

I realize they’re everywhere, swarming above the lamps, spiraling in clouds.

For a while they whirl in place, then drift closer.

Soon I’m surrounded, the tiny lights dancing around me, sketching ribbons of color in the night.

And there’s sound, faint, delicate notes, silvery tones like a faraway melody.

Are they singing, or is it something else?

The whole garden turns dreamlike, magical, glowing with countless points of light. It’s so beautiful it steals my breath. I spin slowly, taking it all in, but my mind won’t rest until I know if I’m right about who’s doing this.

That steady heartbeat is still there, close by. In this stillness, with omega and alpha ears sharper than those of most hounds, I can pinpoint it. The farthest I could possibly hear in the open is maybe twenty feet, so whoever it is must be standing quite close to me.

Invisible…

I look around again, still scanning carefully.

The only clue is the tiny butterflies, and I notice a spot where none of them are moving, a gap in the swirl.

I start toward it, step by step, every footfall drawing me closer to that point.

And then I recognize it: the darker patch, the vague outline of a human form.

The heartbeat pounds now, loud and firm. I’m standing directly in front of someone.

I lift my eyes to where his face should be, but there’s only empty air.

Pain surges through me as I push my voice out again.

"Show yourself," I demand.

For a long moment, silence.

Then, like a veil sliding away, a figure appears before me.

Snow.

He’s in nothing but dark boxers, and my breath catches. His tattoos don’t look like ink at all now. They glow, every line lit as if painted with living light. I blink hard, but it doesn’t fade. And his eyes, those too, shine, like a phosphorescent amethyst.

I can’t say a word. He doesn’t either. We just stand there in the humming quiet while the tiny butterflies swirl around us, weaving soft, unearthly music.

I want to speak so badly, but pain grips my face and chest, stopping me. I fight it, clenching my eyes shut.

Then his voice cuts through.

"Speaking hurts, doesn’t it?"

I nod slowly.

He extends his hand, in a calm gesture.

"Take my hand, and for a moment the pain will vanish. You’ll be able to speak."

I shiver at the thought of his touch.

Could this be it?

The First Touch?

If it is, then everything falls into place. I’d know. I could set my course straight, toward him. Toward my fated mate.

This is the moment I will know the truth.

I tremble so hard it feels like wind is tearing through me. My hand rises, but I stop, staring at his.

I have to force the words out before this happens, piercing through the pain.

Because our status as fated mates might not be the only problem.

There’s something more, something that could even disrupt the First Touch itself.

So, through the agony, shaking, I push out the sentence.

"My power is mostly destructive. I’m afraid of what will happen if I touch another sorcerer."

"I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it."

His hand stays outstretched, his face calm. That calm seeps into me, and his promise tempts me. If he can truly silence the pain, maybe I should risk it. Perhaps I could settle two issues at once?

Am I ready?

My gaze slides over him, assessing, deciding.

Snow’s body is covered in glowing sigils, mine is bare, much smaller, marked only by the pale scars around my throat, left by Anzo Ferro’s electric collar. And those on my back.

The residue of my past… but I want to reach for the future!

In a burst of determination, I thrust my hand forward and seize Snow’s.

What follows is beyond words.

The air itself tears open as a wave of white energy bursts outward from us.

I cry out. Snow does too.

And then the world goes dark as I lose consciousness.

◆◆◆

When I open my eyes, I’m lying in my bed, in the center of my nest.

Beside me sit Lake, Snow, and an older man I don’t recognize, maybe in his late sixties, an omega.

I flinch.

"Summer, relax, you’re okay," Lake says right away, obviously catching the panic in my face. "This is Dr. Sean Nolan-Carter, my husband’s cousin. We called him because you were unconscious for nearly an hour."

The silver-haired doctor gives me a kind smile and a small nod.

My gaze drifts to Snow. He’s watching me with an intensity that makes a flush of embarrassment rise in me, along with a small sting of irritation.

I open my mouth, and, of course, the pain is still there when I try to speak. Still, I force the words out.

"You said it will be okay…"

The bitterness slips out before I can stop it. I feel disappointed, humiliated even, that a stupid surge of electricity knocked me out. My first instinct had been right: the fact that we both carry power caused a short circuit.

Unfortunately, that also means… we still don’t know whether that surge was truly the First Touch between True Mates or just an uncontrolled clash of two sorcerers’ energies. Crap.

Lake raises his brows and turns toward Snow.

But Snow says nothing. He only dips his head slightly and keeps his eyes fixed on the edge of my nest.

"Summer," Dr. Nolan-Carter clears his throat, "your pulse and blood pressure are within normal range, but I need to ask a few more questions. Do you have any blurred vision? Any trouble breathing?"

I shake my head.

"May I draw some blood for testing?"

I shake my head again, harder this time.

The doctor glances at Lake.

Lake bites his lip, then says softly, "Are you sure? A full panel could tell you more about your condition…"

I shake my head frantically.

"How do you feel right now, Summer? Any pain, burning, dizziness? Please be honest. We were really worried when you stayed unconscious so long."

A wave of nerves surges through me. Too much attention on me, too much energy… I want only one thing: for them all to leave.

"You look pale, your lips are badly chapped; maybe you fainted from dehydration?" Lake suggests, glancing toward the doctor.

"Drinking something wouldn’t hurt for sure," the doctor mutters.

Lake notices the empty mineral water cup on my nightstand. He picks it up and hands it to Snow.

"Snow, would you bring Summer some water, please?"

Snow takes the cup and walks toward the bathroom. At first I don’t think anything of it. Then, too late, I remember.

My stomach drops. I left the dildo stuck to the shower wall! Right in plain view.

I bolt upright in bed.

The sound of running water drifts out from the bathroom. My whole body locks tight with shame and panic. Snow has to be staring right now at the stupid dildo with its ridiculous tiny eggplant print.

A moment later he comes back into the room.

Our eyes meet, and I know. He saw it. He knows exactly what I’ve been doing alone at night. Impaling myself on it and ejaculating all over the shower stall.

Embarrassment and frustration crash over me. They’ve invaded my space, exposed my secrets.

Snow steps closer, offering me the cup, but emotion surges too fast and too hard. Instinct takes over. My power flares, and the water explodes out of the cup, splashing across the room and drenching everyone nearby.

"Goodness!" Lake yelps, soaked head to toe.

The cup rips itself from Snow’s hand and slams into the wall, shattering into a thousand shards.

Silence falls heavy.

I feel like the biggest idiot alive. What a pointless outburst. Nothing but nerves boiling over, and the result is a silly disaster.

I lunge out of bed, throw open the balcony doors, and leap outside.