Then I sense someone looking at me. I turn and find Snow standing not far away.
Something is sitting on his forearm.
Wow. A beautiful white-yellow butterfly?
Quite stunning. A bit blankly, I stare at it for a moment, as it spreads its wings, then look up at Snow.
Red floods my cheeks.
Could he be…him?
My fated mate? He studies me as keenly as I study him, and there’s a tenderness in his face that can’t be denied.
But I lower my head without meeting his eyes and climb the stairs like a frightened little mouse. I need time to process my brother’s departure and the fact that Moon has found his True Mate.
So… He was hiding away for a year, safe and sound, while I suffered in the fortress, taken there in his place.
What the fuck?
And then Ragnar came for me, and he got his share of pain too. But at least Ragnar found his perfect mate there.
What about me? I’m the only one left in the unknown. The question that stubbornly rises in me is:
Is Snow my True Mate?
In any case, Moon’s decision to put me through all that was controversial, to say the least. I don’t even know the full details of what really happened to me there, only shadows and fragments, each darker than the last. Moon has it all on his conscience.
I collapse onto the bed and curl up, trying to pull more memories out of the fog, to piece together everything that happened in Anzo’s stronghold.
But today the images won’t sharpen; the brief flashes I’ve had are all I’m living with for now.
Soon, Lake brings lunch to my room.
He looks radiant as always, smiling, his turquoise eyes bright with joy. I feel a bitter twist watching him. No wonder he’s always in such a good mood; he has his fated mate.
The guy gets to ride the dick of his TM every fucking day, in fact, several times a day, and it shows. It’s the way Trues have their sexual life: super intense, sex’s an energetic engine for their Bond.
No surprise Lake’s calm, happy, relaxed. He came back from the mall straight into the arms of his impatiently waiting fated mate, and they jumped straight to bed. Sure, he took a thorough shower, but I can still smell it. My omega nose picks up the faint trace of recent sex.
I feel stupid for my unhealthy jealousy. Lake has earned his happiness. He suffered, and he deserves all the good things in the world. I shouldn’t be so petty; envy only draws negative energy. But still, I can’t help feeling even more dejected; his happiness shows me what I lack.
"How are you, sweetheart?" he asks warmly as he sets the tray down. "I want you to know that Ragnar leaving changes nothing here. You’re our guest. You’re part of our family now, and our families are connected forever."
Those words sit with me, and for a short moment I let them be enough. But then… suddenly they’re just not enough.
I bite down on my lip and lower my head.
There are things I need to get off my chest, so I grab my phone and type. Thenot knowingis eating me alive.
My question is pretty direct.
"My clairvoyant brother, Moon, is convinced I’ll find my True Mate soon. Snow has something like that too, right? Some kind of foresight skill, even if it’s not exactly the same. Did he ever mention me coming here? Is it possible he and I are TMs?"
I show him the screen.
Lake lifts the phone closer to his eyes. While reading, the color rises in his cheeks.
Then his bright eyes meet mine.
