Page 22 of Red River (Eden’s Omegaverse #4)

One day during our stay at my parents’ house, something unusual happened.

We were all hanging out on the patio—Archer was playing cards with Igor, Riley, and Van, while little Phoenix was peacefully napping in his carrier.

Lake and Aiden were off on a trip with Storm and Damien, who had taken them to a nearby amusement park.

After a while, Dad joined us, bringing some snacks. Then, out of nowhere, Snow appeared from the dimly lit garden. That was rare, for sure. He didn’t say a word—just sat down on the couch and started playing his harmonica.

The atmosphere was relaxed, and we were all enjoying ourselves.

But then, I suddenly heard a faint sound coming from Phoenix’s carrier. A chill ran down my spine. Almost instinctively, I raised my hands to my temples—and I wasn’t the only one. Everyone, except Snow, did the same, as if trying to rub away a strange pressure in their heads.

"What the hell is that?" Van muttered, looking around uneasily. "Feels like something’s drilling into my brain."

"I feel it too," Igor added.

I had no idea what was happening. It was as if some strange energy was filling my head, pulling me toward one specific place—the carrier where Phoenix was sleeping!

Confused, I got up and peeked inside. Phoenix’s eyes were open, and he was squirming, waving his little hands like he was uncomfortable. And somehow… I just knew his diaper was full. But how?

The moment I reached down and touched him, the weird pressure in our heads vanished.

I picked him up, still stunned. "What was that? The second I touched him, it stopped!" I looked around at everyone, searching for answers.

Dad was rubbing his temples too, and Archer, along with the others, was staring at Phoenix in shock. They also must have felt it suddenly disappear.

"Was that… Phoenix?" I asked, my voice trailing off. "What just happened?"

Nobody had an answer—except for one person.

Snow stood up slowly, setting his harmonica aside, and walked over to me. I watched him with wide eyes, unsure of what he was about to say. The seriousness on his classically handsome, almost Viking-like face sent a prickle of unease down my spine.

"Phoenix is a special child," he said softly.

That alone was enough to make everyone stare. Snow was the quietest person in our entire family—when he spoke, you listened. Even the kids, who rarely heard his voice, were paying close attention.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Was that… that weird pressure in our heads because of him?"

Snow nodded.

"Is this some kind of… special ability?"

"Yes. Powerful telepathy. It’s just beginning to awaken," he explained calmly.

Archer stood up and joined us.

"Telepathy?" he repeated. "Not like the empathetic bond between True Mates, right? You mean real telepathy—reading actual thoughts of strangers?"

Snow nodded again.

I felt my stomach tighten. "Is this… dangerous? Does something like this happen often? Is it normal?" I asked, my voice a little more anxious than I’d like.

"Phoenix is the first," Snow said. "You need to protect him. There will be people who take an interest in his abilities—people who shouldn’t know what he can do."

Everyone froze, staring at Snow as if he had just dropped a bomb. Which, well… he kind of had. My mouth hung open in shock.

"What do we do?" Archer asked, going straight for the pragmatic approach, his brows furrowing. "How do we protect him?"

Snow’s strange, pale-violet eyes met his. "Don’t worry. I’ll tell you everything. Phoenix will be safe. We’ll make sure of it."

A cautious wave of relief washed over me. For some reason, if there was anyone I could trust to know what he was talking about, it was Snow.

"Damn, you scared the hell out of us," I muttered, exhaling. "But if you say there’s a way to protect him, and you know what to do, then I’m all ears."

"We’ll follow your instructions," Archer added solemnly.

Snow nodded.

"Is he already in danger?" I had to ask.

This time my brother shook his head. "Not yet. It’s still developing. But in a few years, we’ll need to take some precautions."

That was—without a doubt—the longest conversation I had ever had with Snow. And that fact alone told me how serious this was. He never spoke unless it was absolutely necessary.

Then, with a small nod, he took a step back, turned, and quietly disappeared into the darkness of the garden, heading toward his house.

The rest of us remained on the patio, still a little tense. I stood there, holding little Phoenix in my arms, trying to process everything.

"Well, that was one hell of a revelation," I muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Phoenix’s little red-haired head.

"The important thing is that Snow knows how to keep Phoenix safe," my dad said as he stood up and walked over to me. He looked down at my son’s tiny face—Phoenix was still blinking groggily, trying to take in his surroundings. His diaper definitely needed changing. "We can completely trust Snow," Dad added firmly.

"I'll go take care of the… load real quick," I mumbled, motioning toward Phoenix's little bum.

I did it extra fast and came back to the patio, where everyone was still discussing what had just happened. My thoughts were spinning too.

Phoenix was scanning the group with his eyes, now much more lively. He was almost five weeks old now and starting to take in more of the world around him, noticing details, showing curiosity about what was happening.

"That was seriously eerie, but also dope," Van said, sounding genuinely impressed. "Uncle Snow is something else. But damn, Phoenix having a talent like that? That’s freaking awesome!"

I figured Igor would jump in with the same enthusiasm, but when I glanced at him, something seemed… off. His expression was tense, and he looked deep in thought, like something was bothering him.

"Yeah, Snow is super mysterious," I admitted, smiling at Van. "Archer and I have some digging to do—see if anything like this has ever been documented before."

"I already started," Archer said, holding up his phone. "But the only thing I found so far was an article about some scientist working for Malden Pharmaceuticals. He was theorizing about the increasing presence of alien genes in the population—especially in families with True Mates’ children. And Phoenix? He’s the grandson of True Mates and the son of a True Mate pair."

Phoenix let out a soft baby gurgle.

And suddenly—clear as day—I knew what he wanted.

A mental image flashed in my head… of my nipple!

Judging by everyone else’s slightly horrified expressions, they saw it too.

"Oh, come on!" I muttered, eyeing my little son. "You can’t be serious!"

Why was Phoenix sending these images to everyone?! Damn, I really hoped he’d figure out how to direct them only to me because—seriously—this was mortifying.

"I’m gonna go feed him!" I blurted out, desperate to cut the awkwardness. I gestured toward a small bench near the greenhouse.

I wasn’t one of those omegas who felt comfortable nursing in public—I liked a little peace and privacy. But with Phoenix’s brand-new, wide-broadcasting telepathic abilities? Yeah, privacy was kinda meaningless now.

Archer watched me closely. "You okay, River?" He could absolutely tell I was a little—okay, a lot—anxious.

I let out a sharp exhale. "This is a lot. First, I was freaking out about him being a red alpha—whatever the hell that even means. And now this? It’s just one shocking revelation after another. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind a break. Just some time to, you know…" I coughed. "Enjoy normal life."

Dad smiled warmly. "Don’t worry. It’ll all make sense soon. Just trust what Snow says—I know everything’s going to be fine. No need to stress over things before they even happen."

Stressing over things before they happened? Yeah, that was basically my entire personality.

But for now, I just nodded and carried Phoenix over to the bench.

As I sat down and nursed him, my mind wouldn’t stop racing.

A million thoughts, mostly anxious ones. Worrying and overthinking were just part of who I was—but I had to trust my strange brother. And Archer? I was absolutely sure he would do everything to protect our son.

The thought of my years with Archer, waiting ahead of us, made me unknowingly smile as I lowered my gaze to Phoenix’s small face. He kept suckling so cutely, making funny, quiet sounds.

But just as I finished chestfeeding Phoenix and was about to stand up, I noticed a lone figure walking toward me.

To my surprise, it was Igor. His face seemed kinda uneasy, and he was gingerly glancing around.

"You done feeding him?" he asked, like he didn’t want to intrude.

"Yeah, all good," I reassured him.

He stepped closer, looking down at Phoenix with a small smile. But then he lifted his head, and our eyes met.

Without saying a word, he pulled out his phone, then reached into a thin pocket in his case and took out a small, folded piece of paper.

I watched him, confused. Another piece of paper?

"More money?" I raised my eyebrows with a smile.

But Igor’s face—so eerily similar to my brother Skye’s—remained pale and uncertain.

He handed me the note, his fingers trembling slightly.

"I think you should read this, Dad. I struggled for close to a year with whether to show it to you."

"Oh, come on! Every time you sneak over to talk to me, you always bring something of great magnitude—my dad’s comments, a money transfer receipt… What is it this time?" I grinned teasingly, wiggling my eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood—but it was no use.

"It’s something different," he mumbled grimly. "Maybe more important."

"You sound… serious."

"Yeah. I struggled with this decision for a while."

"So, it’s like that comment thing again?"

Igor winced. "Much more… struggle on my part with that one, believe me!"

There was a brief pause as I just stood there, staring at the folded paper.

"It sounds eerie, Igor."

"Before, when I was angry, I thought you didn’t deserve what’s in it. But then… when you were happy, when you and Archer found out you were True Mates, I didn’t want to disturb that for you. But today, after everything that… transpired, I think I finally know who played a big role in all of this. And maybe… you should know what really happened."

It sounded strangely dark.

"What are you talking about, Igor? You’re freaking me out…"

Yes, I was a bit moody. Could these constant twists and turns in my life just… slow down a bit, for fuck’s sake? I really didn’t need more craziness.

He gave me a sad smile and glanced down at the piece of paper.

"Just read it, Dad."

Then, he turned and walked away.

I stood there, gripping the note, my hands shaking now, feeling like something important—something life-changing—was about to happen.

My throat was so tight I could barely swallow. I lowered my gaze to the paper…

In the dim light, I recognized Thomas’s handwriting.

"Fuck!" I swore. I rarely did, trying to be a good parent, but this was just too much.

I sat on the bench, Phoenix on one shoulder so he could burp if needed, and in my other hand, the dreaded piece of paper.

My heart instantly started pounding twice as fast, my lungs tightening. The man I once loved so deeply… His last words to me? Should I be nervous?

So I started reading:

"My dearest River. My love. My heart. My angel.

Where do I even begin? How do I explain myself when I know that nothing will ever make me right in your eyes? I screwed up. I failed you. That’s obvious.

But who could blame me for falling in love with you? Who wouldn’t fall for an angel?

It started then.

Twenty-three years ago, I was driving, talking to Devon about how we had no choice but to declare the third company bankrupt. I finally found the courage to tell him, and he… exploded. Called me a loser, a nobody, the biggest mistake of his life. Said he was done—that he was filing for divorce.

I panicked. I fell apart. You know me—I get attached to one person, and that’s it. For life. There’s no middle ground, no breakups, no giving up.

In a moment of madness, completely out of my mind, I stepped on the gas. I have no idea if I wanted to kill us both or just scare him. All I know is that the speedometer hit 120 miles per hour on a local, bumpy road.

The next thing I remember was smoke… and out of it, the most beautiful face I could ever imagine.

I thought I had died. That I was in heaven. But the red-haired angel didn’t let me cross that final line. He pulled me out of the fire and smoke.

And just like that, you gave me a second life, River—one that, moments earlier, I had been so ready to throw away.

A second chance. But a terrible price was paid for my life, because Devon… Devon died. My stupidity and recklessness stole his life.

And yet, somehow, Fate gave me twenty extra years.

I should have died that day, River. Right then and there. I did die, in fact. And you brought me back to life.

To your own misfortune.

Because after that, I had become a burden—the weight that stole your youth, wiped the carefree, happy smile from your young face, filled those once-bright eyes with sadness and exhaustion.

I put the full weight of raising the kids on your shoulders. Forced you to keep my failing businesses afloat, one after another. Forced you to take care of the house, of everything. I became like a stone tied to a drowning man’s ankle, dragging you down into the abyss. I failed you in every possible way.

But that ends now, River.

A while ago, I spoke with a doctor. He said that in order to qualify for gastric surgery, I had to lose some weight first. I decided to do it. I saw what your life had become—your daily struggle, the constant stress, the way you were fading more and more each day. How I was draining the last of your energy, your youth, your very life. Leeching off you.

I hated myself for it. I despised myself. I knew you deserved better.

But the truth is, I could never give you more because I’m a talentless, terrible businessman.

What I really wanted to be was a dancer.

I never told you that, did I? My shameful secret. I danced as a kid, but my parents laughed at me. "A dancing alpha? That’s stupid." I bet you can’t even imagine me dancing—the fat, disgusting pig I’ve become.

But… it wasn’t always like this. Still, I had to follow the life path that was meant for alphas. And no matter how many companies I start, I’ll run them all into the ground.

I’m a loser. A nobody. Just like Devon said. I don’t know how to change. I don’t have it in me.

After I lost my father when I was eighteen, I had to run the house when I was just a lost, clueless kid—but I had to take care of Andrew, so I tried my best. What else was I supposed to do? And so I stumbled through life, never really feeling whole, never truly fulfilled, always in the wrong place.

Before I got fat, my good looks helped me get by—people gave me more than I deserved, let things slide. Bank officers were willing to approve more loans than they should have. My smile made people like me, but in the end, everyone eventually saw through me.

Your parents did, too. They saw what was beneath. And I tricked you, too, with my charm, my smile, and my promises.

My angel… You were so beautiful that I was afraid to even look at you, in case you disappeared like a dream, like an illusion. Sometimes, when you slept, I dared to watch you for hours—your perfect little face, sweet lips, and those long auburn lashes—fearing that I was using up my time and would inevitably lose this lovely mirage.

And you started to disappear… year by year.

That day, when I came back from the doctor, determined to lose weight and have the surgery, I got a phone call.

The number was unknown. The voice on the other end belonged to a strange man.

It was the most terrifying conversation of my life.

I was shaking as he spoke. There was something dark about him, River. A real, consuming darkness.

He said: 'Let River go. If you keep forcing him to carry all of you for one more year, he will die. The stress will break him. He gave you twenty extra years—you owe him your life, and you owe him his freedom. If you don’t remove yourself from his life within the next few months, you will be removed.'

I responded, 'Who the hell are you? How dare you?!'

And he replied, 'His True Mate is already waiting for him. He wants River but can’t have him—because you’re in the way. Let River go, and his life will change for the better. Give back what you stole from him. Give him back his happiness!'

'Who are you?!' I yelled again.

'Someone who won’t tolerate a parasite like you much longer.'

'Are you his True Mate?!'

He let out a low, chilling laugh.

'No, I’m not. And River doesn’t even know his TM exists. But I know about him. Let River go… or pay the price.'

Then he hung up.

For days, I walked around in shock. But eventually, I realized… Whoever he was, he was right.

I stole your youth.

I stole your joy.

And now, it’s time I give it back. I won’t get the surgery. I won’t stop eating junk food.

I’ll hurt you a little more… but only for a while.

And then, you’ll be free again. My River. My angel.

I love you more than anything in this world… even though I’m just a beggar who had the honor of living with a prince.

Forgive me, River. Please… don’t hate me. Find it in your heart to forgive me.

I dared to look into the red, beautiful sun. And I burned.

Thank you for saving my life back then. I hope I can return the favor now.

T."

Reading it—was like an avalanche of stones hitting my defenseless body, shaking me, tumbling me over—but somehow, I still stood.

All the memories came rushing back: Thomas’s face, full of tears, confessing his love for me, and then… his last, quiet apologies, mumbled under his breath just hours before he died. He had told me his heart was hurting—and then he simply closed his eyes.

I forced myself to breathe. It was just so hard.

I tilted my head back, sobbing toward the sky, my heart breaking once more for my poor, late husband.

"You did it, Thomas," I whispered. "You gave it back to me."

For a few cleansing moments, I just cried, feeling something leave me—something heavy, bitter, coiled tight inside my chest, still lingering despite the happiness I had found over the past year.

Now, it felt like a true catharsis—a closing act. Thomas had given me that closure.

But then came the next thought.

The realization.

The suspicion.

Immediately, I stood up. The moment I turned away, there he was.

Snow was standing right behind me.

Our eyes met. His were calm, pale, and somehow… sad. Should I ask? Should I drag this question out of the shadows of the past? Should I hate him or thank him? Accuse him or bless him? Should I lash out or try to be a moral person?

"Did you tell Thomas to basically kill himself?"

My voice cracked—I barely recognized it. So I had chosen. But was it the right choice?

"He ate himself to death, Snow!" I groaned in despair.

My odd brother remained silent.

"Was it you, Snow?" I repeated, my voice fading along with my strength. "Tell me, please… I beg you."

His answer was calm and quiet.

"No, River. It wasn’t me."

I froze. We just stared at each other.

"Don’t lie! It has to be you! Only you could have known!"

"I never lie," he responded evenly, then turned away, walking back into the darkness of the garden.

I wanted to scream and cry, to throw things and break things. My emotions boiled over, erratic and strangely contradictory. It felt like dying and being born at the same time—suffering and orgasming, starving and overeating.

Chaos.

Too much.

I had to stop.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Phoenix watching me, his strange, bright gold eyes locked onto mine.

And just like that, there was silence. A long, deep silence.

My son stared at me without a sound, and slowly, I began to calm down.

Almost magically, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall perfectly into place.

Thomas had died that day, two decades ago. What I gave him was extra—something he never would have had if I hadn’t been walking near that road.

"Only Fate knows the paths we walk. Sometimes they cross. We can’t really fight it, can we?" I whispered, gently stroking my son’s soft cheek.

"River?"

Archer was walking toward me, his gaze searching.

Oh my God, finally. Archer—my home.

"Archer…" I whispered, clinging to his forearm. His warm, steady energy wrapped around me like a safety net. Suddenly, everything was good, safe, simplified. I needed him like a breath of fresh air. My forehead pressed to his chest, my heart finally settling.

Phoenix let out a small, happy sound and looked up at his father.

"Is everything okay, River?" Archer asked, lifting our son into his arms.

"Yes. I think… today, I finally understand it all. And I’m on my way to making peace with it."

His light blue eyes softened, filled with warmth, love, and that quiet but firm protection I had craved my entire life.

"Did I ever tell you that you make me happy?" I whispered shyly. "So, so happy."

Archer grinned. "Not in these exact words. It was more like, ‘deeper, harder, it feels so good!’"

I chuckled and pouted. "Ey! I was being serious! I—" I trailed off. "I just can’t wait to see the rest of our life together. It won’t be boring, that’s for sure."

"I knew marrying a redhead meant trouble!" He leaned in closer and kissed the tip of my nose. "But I wouldn’t trade it for anything."

"We’re not married!"

"We will be. In May."

I smiled. "I submit to the idea!"

And this time, I knew—I would do it differently. I would invite my whole family—even those who had impacted my life in ways I still couldn’t fully understand.

But one thing was certain.

Fate had intended for all of this to happen exactly as it did.

Who was I to question its judgment? Fight against it? Throw a fit?

I had fought enough.

I deserved a vacation.

So, I took Archer’s hand, and together, we walked back to the patio, where my dad was serving sandwiches to Aiden and Lake, who had just returned with Storm and Damien.

We were eager to share what had happened with Phoenix, knowing they could understand it like no one else—being a ‘magical’ couple themselves.

The evening stretched on, filled with smiles, laughter, and stories. Damien even put on a display of his so-called ‘tricks’—though we all knew they weren’t tricks at all.

My boys watched in awe as he sent electric sparks dancing through the air for everyone’s amusement. Then, Snow reappeared with his equally magical partner, and the night only grew more fascinating.

I soaked it all in—this family, this love, this life I had regained after two decades.

We were together again.

And for now, that was all that mattered.

THE END

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