The First Touch?
If it is, then everything falls into place. I’d know. I could set my course straight, toward him. Toward my fated mate.
This is the moment I will know the truth.
I tremble so hard it feels like wind is tearing through me. My hand rises, but I stop, staring at his.
I have to force the words out before this happens, piercing through the pain.
Because our status as fated mates might not be the only problem.
There’s something more, something that could even disrupt the First Touch itself.
So, through the agony, shaking, I push out the sentence.
"My power is mostly destructive. I’m afraid of what will happen if I touch another sorcerer."
"I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it."
His hand stays outstretched, his face calm. That calm seeps into me, and his promise tempts me. If he can truly silence the pain, maybe I should risk it. Perhaps I could settle two issues at once?
Am I ready?
My gaze slides over him, assessing, deciding.
Snow’s body is covered in glowing sigils, mine is bare, much smaller, marked only by the pale scars around my throat, left by Anzo Ferro’s electric collar. And those on my back.
The residue of my past… but I want to reach for the future!
In a burst of determination, I thrust my hand forward and seize Snow’s.
What follows is beyond words.
The air itself tears open as a wave of white energy bursts outward from us.
I cry out. Snow does too.
And then the world goes dark as I lose consciousness.
???
When I open my eyes, I’m lying in my bed, in the center of my nest.
Beside me sit Lake, Snow, and an older man I don’t recognize, maybe in his late sixties, an omega.
I flinch.
"Summer, relax, you’re okay," Lake says right away, obviously catching the panic in my face. "This is Dr. Sean Nolan-Carter, my husband’s cousin. We called him because you were unconscious for nearly an hour."
The silver-haired doctor gives me a kind smile and a small nod.
My gaze drifts to Snow. He’s watching me with an intensity that makes a flush of embarrassment rise in me, along with a small sting of irritation.
I open my mouth, and, of course, the pain is still there when I try to speak. Still, I force the words out.
"You said it will be okay…"
The bitterness slips out before I can stop it. I feel disappointed, humiliated even, that a stupid surge of electricity knocked me out. My first instinct had been right: the fact that we both carry power caused a short circuit.
