Time drifts by, but I don’t want to stop. The lake calms me to the core. The pain, the noise, the fog in my head, all of it fades. It’s almost like being reset to some starting point, whatever that is.
I reach a small cove where white lilies float on broad green leaves. The water is blue-green, the sand soft beneath.
Strangely, the music follows me here too, like smoke drifting wherever I go, floating over the lake.
At last, I climb ashore. My impatience grows. Now I just have to know where the sound originates.
There’s a small grove nearby. Is that where it’s coming from? Slowly, I slip between the shrubs and into the shade.
And then I see him.
A man sits on a fallen log, his back to me. His hair is platinum blond, tied into a ponytail, the hair reaching his shoulder blades. Broad shoulders, a narrow waist. He’s wearing a pale lavender long-sleeve shirt.
A shiver runs down my spine. The source of the music is this alpha. The melody floats in the air, enchanting, almost seductive. I seem to be caught in a trance.
Should I disturb him? I decide to. Slowly, carefully, I circle widely around the log to glimpse his face.
He must hear me coming, but he doesn’t turn, just keeps playing, lost in the music the way I was lost in swimming.
Hesitant, I stop. I must look ridiculous, dripping wet, my clothes clinging to me.
Then our gazes meet.
And wow.
His eyes are a light violet, striking, almost magical.
And his face… another wow. He’s super handsome. Strong, symmetrical features, masculine, almost sculpted. An aura like a Viking. Perfect, sensual lips, a straight nose.
Hottie. My pulse spikes slightly.
But wait, I think I’ve seen him before. Perhaps he’s one of the people living in the house I was brought to?
My memory offers only vague snippets of information, but I'll try to coax something out of my foggy brain.
Snow.
Is that his name?
Or did I just invent it?
I feel my face flush. I just approached a stranger, on top of that, an alpha! And I keep staring at him. How awkward. My nostrils instinctively flare, but all I can scent is the fresh, heather tone of his shower gel, which reveals nothing to me about him, not his pheromonal Allure, not his mating status. It's highly likely that he's on suppressants.
What about me?
Well, it’s kinda hard to scent yourself like this, but I assume I’m an omega. How should I react to alphas?
Not knowing anything about my circumstances makes it hard to respond in any clear way. Still, something stirs in me, a trace of who I used to be whispers in my ear.
The guy’s attractive. My type!
Wait a minute. What the hell am I even doing? One minute has passed, and I’m blatantly staring at this man without a single word. A creep. I open my mouth, wanting to behave like a normal human being, but nothing comes out.
I can’t speak! I try again.
Only a rasp. Another try! Still nothing.
Pain spikes in my head.
