Page 183 of The Heart of Winter

I had finally defrosted.

SARIEL

On the sixth day after finding the wetlands, and the sixteenth day since the crash, I started noticing something interesting about Winter.

His behavior had changed. He seemed to seek out contact with me. Where before he’d been kind of cautious, only occasionally touching me on his own, now he appeared… more relaxed, reaching for me, craving closeness whether we turned it into passion or not.

It was fascinating. Whatever was happening, it was building. By noon, he’d already initiated sex three times! Of course, I had zero complaints, on the contrary, I welcomed it with open arms. But it was surprising and almost didn’t fit his personality. But maybe it aligned with the fated magic that was changing us?

There was also something I noticed on a physical level. His neck glands were flushed pink and slightly swollen. I caught him scratching them absentmindedly, but I didn’t dare say anything. His entrance had changed color too, becoming more pink, and most of all, his scent had shifted even more noticeably. It wasn’t just lavender with a hint of my mint anymore. Now it had a sweeter, almost candy-like aroma.

It made me suspect this really might be… some kind of unusual heat.

I’d never witnessed another person’s heat before, so I had no frame of reference. It’s not like people walked around in public while in heat, so despite what might seem like common knowledge, the scent of an omega in heat wasn’t something most people experienced firsthand. But from what I’d heard, heat scent was indeed candy-like, extremely flavorful.

Whatever it was—the intensity and the sweetness combined—had a strong effect on me. It was enticing, deeply arousing.

With every passing hour, my suspicions seemed more and more confirmed, because I practically spent the second half of that sixth day between his thighs.

Immersed in that potent, sweet scent, I made love to him, feeling an endless surge of energy. At times, I pressed my nose to his glands, trying to understand it, inhaling deeply and feeling a wave of strength rush through me. In some ways, it reminded me of my own scent during heat. But at the same time… it was different.

Eventually, I gave up trying to make sense of it. I just let myself enjoy him, no hesitation, no holding back, whenever he wanted me.

That night, between the sixth and seventh day after discovering the wetlands, we barely stopped. We made love every two hours.

Winter kept waking up in the middle of the night. I’d feel his impatient hands running over my body, pulling me close. Of course, I had no intention of denying him anything. I enjoyed every second of it.

There were moments I loved in particular, when we were done with the sex, I’d lie on my side, and he’d do the same, and slowly, sensually, I’d kiss his lips. It became a delightful ritual: long, lazy kisses. Me tasting him, savoring the softness of his sweet lips. The kisses could last for minutes on end, ranging from featherlight touches to wet, openmouthed passion. Winter had his eyes closed, completely lost in these intimate moments. And I loved it. Simply loved it.

On the seventh day since we discovered the wetlands, things continued along the same lines.

Being so close to him, I felt like I could not only sense his emotions, but almost read his thoughts. The whole situation was very confusing for Winter. I could tell he was trying hard to control himself, but he failed every time.

Watching him was quite interesting. I could feel so clearly what was going on in his head, his inner struggle to resist the urge. He’d sit by the fire, focused on preparing food, but his gaze kept flickering toward me.

I felt his discomfort as strongly as if it were in my mind. He really didn’t want to ask. Really! He knew how intense this all was, maybe even a little suspicious. So I decided to make it easier for him. I had no interest in teasing him, playing games, or making it harder than it needed to be.

So I stood up, went behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and pressed soft kisses to his neck. Immediately, his pelvis started tilting in such an obvious way that my blood spiked, and the whole thing was on.

From then on, every time I caught him staring, I’d walk over, wrap my arms around him, and start showering kisses over his glands and neck.

And every single time, he’d immediately turn to me, practically pouncing, relieved that I’d spared him the effort of asking, thrilled to get what he wanted: another quickie.

More than once, I almost said—

"I didn’t know you had such a high sex drive."

Or,

"I’m really happy to see you so… enthusiastic."

But I held back.

Because I knew exactly how he’d react: he’d get self-conscious, embarrassed, and then clamp down on himself even harder.

And that was the last thing I needed. I wanted this to keep happening, again and again. I longed to see Winter at ease, open, demanding, hungry, free from the fear that I’d push him away or make jokes about his needs.

More than anything, I just wished for everything to unfold naturally, freely, without overthinking, without second-guessing, without hesitation.

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