Page 27 of Let It Snow (Eden’s Omegaverse #7)

Snow keeps smiling, gazing at the empty space where the leaf was, before turning his eyes back to me.

"When I was a kid, I loved doing little tricks like that. I’d turn invisible and eavesdrop on conversations, I’d walk across the surface of the lake in the middle of summer by freezing the water beneath my feet, and I could warm myself up when I was cold by raising the temperature of the air around me. "

"So you’re… what? An elemental mage?"

Snow tilts his head slightly, as if considering my words.

"That’s how it might look, how it manifests, but it’s only a side effect of the essence of who I truly am. I’m actually a mage of energy. You are a hylomancer, and I could be called a rheomancer. I control the flow of energy."

My eyes have to be big like saucers.

"So cool!"

"Light is energy, ice is the slowing of vibrating water particles, and fire is their avalanche-like acceleration. Even pleasure is energy. And both past and future events depend on the flow of energy, because the timeline always rushes forward, carrying its own momentum."

I listen, stunned, then whisper,

"That’s just… amazing! So energy… is your thing.

In a way, it’s the opposite of what I can do as a hylomancer.

I can shift solid particles in any direction, and you can change their energetic state.

Fascinating, fascinating…" I scratch my chin, struck by how our powers seem opposite but also…

complementary. Energy and matter, and after all… E=mc2, right?

Maybe together we would be… a synergy?

For a while we both eat, but my head is spinning with even more chaotic questions, tumbling from the personal to the universal, and out of them one pushes to the front.

"Don’t you ever think you were meant for more than just a modest life in the Nolans’ estate?"

Snow’s face turns briefly melancholic before he answers.

"And what would that be, the life waiting for me out there? Being a freak? A military experiment?"

I gasp loudly, because it’s exactly what was always the scariest part for me too.

Snow inhales, a little wistfully.

"For someone like me, it would be easy to surrender to dreams of power, maybe even let them consume me. But I’ve never wanted my powers to rule my life or dictate my decisions, because I knew sooner or later I’d hit obstacles I couldn’t cross.

That’s how reality works, that’s how the universe works.

Every poison has its antidote, every action has a reaction, and I’ve always seen that obstacle ahead of me.

I call them blind spots. It forces a certain humility and caution on me.

There’s a reason they say you don’t play with fire, because eventually…

you burn. I wouldn’t want to allow myself arrogance, though sometimes it comes easily…

sometimes it’s hard to resist. It’s my weakness, and I have to fight it. "

I stay quiet for a moment, looking at our fingers that keep brushing. Snow’s thumb moves softly over the back of mine.

I feel excitement; I’m sitting across from someone who is struggling with dilemmas similar to mine.

And that suddenly ends… a part of my loneliness.

"People say that if you want to know a man’s true nature, just give him power," I whisper.

"I’m scared of the moments when that power rises inside me, when it feels like all limits fall away.

It terrifies me. Sometimes the force I carry within feels impossible to control… " I hesitate, but Snow listens closely.

Our eyes stay locked the whole time.

I sigh and add, "What is power without morality to guide it? It can destroy, it can bring suffering to so many. If I ever faced the ultimate choice, would I pass the test? Would I choose myself, or others?"

"In a way, you already had a situation where you passed that test, Summer, the day you were kidnapped."

"But I never really faced it, never actually was put in a situation where I had to unleash all my power. What if I got upset and it took advantage of me, consumed me, corrupted my soul?"

Suddenly, Snow cuts himself off, hesitates, then says, "Something’s coming."

For a moment I don’t understand what he means, still caught up in his last words, wanting him to continue.

"I don’t get it."

"What’s coming can’t hurt us, but it can threaten other people’s lives."

"I still don’t understand," I mumble, glancing around to see what is supposedly coming.

Snow lifts his head and looks at the ocean beyond the glass dome that shields the restaurant from the pressure of the sea.

Small electric submarines drift past from time to time, rentals from the oceanarium with a guide steering them. Usually six people or so sit inside, cruising along to watch marine life.

Now I notice one of those subs drifting off course, veering away from the reef and toward the dome, moving faster and faster.

Then it happens. The bottom of the sub smashes against the dome’s upper curve, a horrific screech of metal and glass ringing out as the whole structure shudders.

In a split second, torrents of water crash down from above with enormous force. But I react faster than I think, the instinct to protect life taking over. I hurl the water back out of the dome, holding it at the cracked seams, refusing to let it break through.

Even so, the restaurant fills with screams and chaos. Panic erupts, and with horror I realize that to stop the flood I’ll have to keep focusing constantly, forcing the water outside the dome, making sure it doesn’t slip through the cracks.

Snow looks at the ceiling, then back at me.

People leap to their feet and race for the exit, the restaurant emptying in a rush as they flee through the tunnel toward the oceanarium. Chairs and tables topple in their wake, waiters and staff joining the stampede.

I gasp in despair.

"Snow, if we stay here, the cameras will catch us sitting calmly. Too weird! People will find out about my power. I can’t… I can’t let that happen!"

And I leap to my feet, unsure what to do.

Snow locks eyes with me for a moment, then suddenly rises as well.

In a blink, he cuts the lights, which under the circumstances doesn’t even look suspicious.

A power outage seems like the obvious result of the dome’s damage.

Then he runs to the wall, presses his hand against it, and something strange happens.

A thin, piercing sound cuts the air; like water freezing into ice, the noise is sharp as a blade on glass. Moments later, the entire outer surface of the dome is coated in a thick, insulating layer of ice.

But Snow waits a moment longer; the ice thickens, and soon I realize I no longer have to hold the water back.

The ice keeps it sealed out.

Snow rushes to me.

"Quick, let’s catch up with the others. They won’t notice what happened if we blend into the crowd smoothly."

"Wait!" I shout, because something catches my attention.

About thirty feet away I hear the cry of a small child. I sprint toward the sound and find a toddler, maybe a year and a half old, sobbing in a stroller. Beside him, on the ground, lies someone unconscious.

"Snow! Looks like a piece of the dome’s structure hit him on the head!" I yell.

Snow, who ran after me, bends over the figure, a young omega with blood streaking his temple.

"Let’s get them out of here!" I call, and Snow nods.

I scoop the crying boy into my arms, while Snow lifts the omega.

Then we both hurry toward the tunnel. The last people are just disappearing at the far end, some of them also rushing with small children in their arms.

When we reach the passage, the staff immediately close a series of bulkheads that seal off the aquarium from the tunnel, securing each section against flooding.

The chaos is so overwhelming that no one notices at first that Snow is carrying an injured man, not until we nearly collide with one of the workers and Snow asks him to call for medical help.

The staff usher us into a back room, where the omega is laid across two chairs. One of the guards is trained in first aid and quickly gets to work, bandaging his wounds and stopping the bleeding.

The whole time, I stand with the crying boy in my arms. His light curls frame his chubby face, big hazel eyes full of tears.

I pull his small body closer, trying to comfort him, but his terrified gaze stays fixed on his unconscious dad.

The trauma must be unbearable, the shock overwhelming.

Snow, standing beside me and watching as the staff tend to the injured omega, glances at me and notices the boy trembling, still unable to stop crying.

He reaches out and gently touches the boy’s head. The child calms within moments and sags against me, his head resting on my shoulder. He slips his finger into his mouth in a self-soothing gesture.

"Poor little guy…" I whisper, realizing that whenever Snow isn’t touching me, the fog creeps back and the words catch in my throat. Snow must notice, because he slips an arm around me, letting his cleansing energy flow into me, and I’m grateful for it.

We wait nearly twenty minutes before the ambulance arrives, and another twenty before social services show up to take care of the boy while his dad is taken to the hospital.

During all that time, I hold the child in my arms. It’s strange, sweet, and unexpectedly comforting.

His small head rests on my shoulder, his body exhausted from crying, calmer now.

Snow occasionally brushes his hand over him, clearly sending him soothing energy.

At one point, the boy even drifts off to sleep, his eyes closing as I gaze at his little face, a flood of emotions rushing through me.

I notice Snow watching me closely. Then suddenly he asks, "Would you want to have kids one day?"

I blink, caught off guard. The question feels… very much about the future, about us. But it’s an important one.

"Yes. I would," I whisper, though I sense Snow already knew my answer. It seems obvious.