Fuck. This is insane.
I want to run, but somehow I stay. And blatantly stare.
He stares back at me, or maybe thelightdoes?
Then he blinks, and just like that, the illumination fades.
The room plunges into near-total darkness.
There is a minute of complete silence, where only our breaths can be heard. Then Snow pushes himself up on his elbows. Even in the dark, I know he’s still looking straight at me.
I open my mouth, wanting to ask about the light, but the awful tightness in my throat stops me. It’s even stronger now, probably from the shock.
"Everything okay, Summer?" His deep voice resonates in the room, sending a shiver along my spine.
I can scent him: his shampoo, his hard body, the healthy, manly alpha, the warmth of his skin. Could I just jump into bed and have passionate sex with him?Summer, get a grip, get a grip! Back to the topic, the light.
So, instead of bouncing on his dick, I shake my head slowly. Nothing is okay. What I just saw defies reason.
Then again, so do the things I can do!
Maybe I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it. Asking him, "Hey, why do you glow at night?" would sound way too absurd.
And vaguely dangerous.
Anyway, this is where I came for help with my nesting problem; instead of knocking on Lake’s door, I visited a luminous alpha hottie.
Now I need to figure out how to get him to help me, because I don’t even have a car. How do I say it? I want so badly to tell him, to force the words out, but I can’t. The emotions are too strong, my nerves too strained.
He was glowing in the dark, dammit!
Snow sits on the edge of the bed, brushing aside the mosquito net with a smooth gesture. He reaches for the nightstand, moving as if he can see in the dimly lit room, and hands me his phone.
At first, I don’t understand. Then I see he’s opened a blank note in the reminder app.
Smart.
Writing has to be easier than speaking.
So I type:
Sorry for showing up like this, but there’s something keeping me from sleeping. I need to take care of it, only I don’t have a car. I know it’s the middle of the night, but there are twenty-four-hour stores downtown where you can buy this kind of thing.
I don’t write what I actually mean. No way. Nesting is wrapped in cultural taboo. Omegas don’t talk about their nests with anyone, especially not alphas. The only exception is with a partner, when there’s intimacy and space for it. But since the process is so deeply personal, super private, no one really wants to broadcast it.
Snow studies the screen for a moment, then looks up at me.
"I’ll take you wherever you need to go."
Then, without another word, he gets up, walks past me, and leaves the room, switching on the lights as he goes.
Brightness floods the room, and I feel awkward standing there by his bed. The pleasant scent of heather wafts around.
Dear Fate, I barged in without knocking again, and now I’m demanding he drive me to some vague destination. And yet… something tells me he doesn’t mind.
I listen. Is he changing in the bathroom?
Taking advantage of having his phone in my hand, I search for a twenty-four-hour nesting supply store. A few pop up across the city. One of them is about thirty-five minutes away, inside a round-the-clock supermarket.
