Page 23 of Let It Snow (Eden’s Omegaverse #7)

But in the classical alpha-omega sense, it starts as an intense longing for closeness, not necessarily strictly sexual, but more like a deep hunger to be near someone.

I’ve definitely had something like that these last few days, constantly missing Snow’s presence.

But then the Pull grows sharper, more intense, and finally… painful. Mates become anxious, unhappy. Their bodies develop side effects: headaches, dizziness, cramps. As the days pass, it leads to fainting, and if the separation lasts, to coma and, after another week, death.

Right now, I guess, I’m still in the intense longing phase, but mixed with something the classical description barely mentions: rising sexual arousal. Yep, I’m pretty much hard every half hour.

That’s not supposed to be the most pronounced part of a typical Pull. It’s usually more about the obsessive need to be close, which then evolves into the painful separation symptoms.

But for me? I long for him. I crave his alpha body. The desire is stronger than the pain.

Interesting.

But it’s also making it harder to stay down here. Watching Snow play is having its effect on me. My pulse is starting to spike, my slick gathering, and I’m getting nervous someone will smell it. I need to get out before it turns awkward.

So I slip away to my room while they’re caught up in a story about another relative, Gabriel, and his run-ins with the law.

As soon as I’m back in my room, feeling frustrated, I throw myself onto the bed and reach for the dildo.

Yeah. My problem seems to have only one solution lately, and I urgently need to find a way out of this impasse.

◆◆◆

Only two evenings later, I get another chance.

I’m staring absentmindedly out the window when I spot Snow walking across the lawn, heading toward the shore. On impulse I jump out, ready to follow him, but once I reach the ground, he’s nowhere in sight.

Still, I rush down to the water, not even sure what I would say, only that something inside me is boiling over.

Where is he? Did he vanish completely? Or is he pulling that invisibility trick again?

Then I notice something strange, something glowing, suspended in the air. I freeze.

It’s… an arrow?

A floating arrow, pulsing with shifting colors. A bit neon-like, 3D.

I gape at it, mouth open. The arrow’s glow quickens, pulsing like a heartbeat, almost urging me forward. It’s pointing straight toward the water.

Diving in doesn’t tempt me, but I feel pulled in that direction all the same. Could I… maybe fly?

Even with all the holes in my memory, I know one thing: I can press air beneath my feet, compressing it into a gust strong enough to lift my weight. That’s how I jumped off the balcony earlier.

I give it a try. The pressure wobbles beneath me, swaying me from side to side. It feels like there must be a better way, but this will have to do for now. Rocking unsteadily, I drift forward, following the arrow.

To my shock, another arrow appears farther ahead, floating above the lake’s surface, about a third of the way across. Of course it’s him. Snow definitely has a sense of humor. Each arrow pulses with a friendly pastel light.

I skim over the water, scattering droplets with every yard flowing below me. Another arrow appears closer to the opposite shore, glowing softly in shades of pink and violet.

Is it because I am getting closer to him?

When I finally reach the far bank, I see something new: a river of light flowing across the ground.

Streams of turquoise, sapphire, and bright blue weave into a glowing path, while familiar motes—those luminous butterflies I saw before—float above, bathing the forest in a dreamlike glow.

The whole thing looks like a fairytale setting, and I can’t imagine how much energy it takes to create something this breathtaking.

I follow the shimmering current deeper into the woods, mouth hanging open, the twilight around me only adding to the enchantment. My pulse races with a strange mix of wonder and anticipation.

At last I reach a clearing. It glows with what feels like a billion tiny butterflies, their trails painting multicolored spirals across the air.

And there he is.

Snow stands in the center, no longer hiding. Barefoot, he wears only black Viking-style pants edged with delicate Nordic patterns, his upper body bare.

His tattoos burn with a soft light, casting a glow around him. His white hair falls loose, framing his face and brushing against his collarbones. He tilts his head slightly, silent, then slowly extends his hand toward me, just like before.

I stare at it like it’s covered in thorns.

"I’m scared," I choke out. "Touching you changed me before. I became someone else."

"That’s the real you, and he’s beautiful," he says calmly. "I’m not afraid of him."

"But I am…" I push through pain.

His hand stays outstretched. My eyes flick over his body, and for a moment I can barely breathe.

He looks carved from stone, not an ounce of fat, every muscle perfectly shaped.

His golden skin gleams under the winding tattoos, white, silver, and gold lines that ripple with light.

He doesn’t look human at all, but something otherworldly.

I swallow hard, words stuck in my throat. Flirting isn’t my thing. Even with the gaps in my memory, I’m sure of one thing: before Anzo kidnapped me, I never had a boyfriend. My life had been sheltered, my parents terrified anyone would discover my power and end the fragile bubble I lived in.

Answering him directly hurts, but silence feels worse. This is a moment we need to face, Snow and I, so I force myself through the ache in my chest.

"I like your tattoos," I manage.

Pain rakes through me, but I refuse to let it stop me.

Snow smiles gently and exhales. "They’re not tattoos, Summer."

I freeze. Not tattoos?

Before I can stop myself, curiosity wins. My hand lifts toward him, trembling, and I press my palm against his chest.

A pleasant jolt rips through me.

I let out an embarrassing moan.

In an instant the fog that clouds my mind vanishes. My memories flood back. Every event, every thought, every piece of my power, suddenly clear and within reach.

Now, speaking will be effortless. Why did I fight it for so long? Why doubt, when I could just fall into this and accept everything that comes with it?

I stroke his chest with my hand a little more boldly, feeling his skin, and I realize: the white markings radiate light, the thin golden ones radiate warmth, and the silver ones radiate cold.

"You’re not human; you’re like me," I whisper. "We’re different."

Snow nods.

"Sometimes alien DNA concentrates," he explains. "And sometimes it becomes a gateway. Through it passes the power of the one who created the aliens."

"You mean Fate," I say. "He’s real."

"Yes."

"Like… some omnipotent being?"

"That word works, though it’s still imperfect."

"What comes through those gateways?"

"That’s a bigger conversation. Maybe one we save for when you show me your true form?"

I exhale shakily.

"The problem is I can’t reveal it just like that. Since childhood, I’ve had this fear drilled into me. I need to push through it to open up…"

"To trust more?"

"I guess… And to also trust myself."

My fingers still move over the patterns on his chest. The glow shifts beneath my touch, tiny impulses flowing downward, and when I glance there, I see undeniable proof of what that touch is doing to him. The electric pulses of light concentrate, and flux toward his lower abdomen.

Yeah, the bulge.

And of course, my body responds in kind.

Eyes squeezed shut, I press my other hand to his chest, feeling the strange contrast of warmth and coolness from the golden and silver lines. My fingers almost seem to turn translucent in the glow of the patterns beneath them.

"I’m so lonely," I whisper, my voice breaking. "No one else understands me. My brother, Moon… he saw fragments of the future, jagged visions that tore him apart. His difference made him feel alone and desperate. He turned to drugs, drifted down dangerous paths, and ended up as a mafia bride. Then… I had to replace him. Sometimes I’m terrified I’ll collapse under my power the same way he did. And take a turn onto a dark path."

Snow watches me in silence, no judgment in his eyes, only attentiveness.

Now that I can speak freely, the words flow out of me with no resistance from the choking pain. It feels so good.

"You know, I grew up homeschooled, shut away so no one would discover my secret. I don’t know what dating feels like.

I’ve never been to a movie theater. Or a restaurant.

With a guy. I rarely even left the house.

" My words come out somewhat bitter. "I hate it. I hate not being normal. I want a boyfriend, a family, kids. Simple life. But instead, I can’t even let people close to me.

I just want someone who understands. Someone who feels like me. "

My voice falters, my breath catching. My fingers press harder against his chest painted with light, as if it were my lifeline through the fog.

"Snow… is that you?"

He raises his hand, brushing his fingers gently across my cheek. I shiver, but not with fear. His touch is different, making me alive, sparking across my skin like tiny embers. And indeed, there are tiny static flashes in the air.

My eyes flutter shut, waiting, hoping he’ll keep going, keep giving me more sparks. But instead, he speaks.

"I’ve felt that way my whole life, Summer. I don’t see the world the way other people do, so I never felt the urge to build deeper connections with them. Nobody would understand. Heck, even I didn’t understand what I could do. It took me a long time to figure it out."

"What do you mean, you see things differently? The synesthesia thing?"

"Do you want to see? I can share my gift for a moment."

"Yes!"

Snow’s hands gently cradle my face, and his eyes brighten, locking into mine.

And then… everything changes.

The world hums with a million melodies.

The forest stirs to life, trees shift their forms, and I see billions of pulses flowing through them like living rivers of energy.

I see their true nature. Grass and flowers ripple with color, and sound takes on shades, while colors sing.

Every sound has its own scent, every scent has its own sound, and it all floods me with so much stimulation that I groan, stunned by how vivid, vibrant, and alive the fabric of the universe really is. And it’s… heavy, intense!

So many things I had been blind to, but he… he sees it all. It’s overwhelming, yet breathtaking.