Page 231 of The Heart of Winter

"Hit me with it."

He started playing, and damn, some say the bass can’t hold a melody, but I call total BS. Winter’s bass sang. It grooved and glided, a deep, soulful rhythm wrapped in melody. It pulled something out of me immediately, like a magnet on my spine.

I began to move, first just my arms, fluid and slow, then my shoulders and hips joined in. The rhythm seeped through my skin, down into my joints, and I let it carry me. I let my body sway, loose and instinctive, riding on the groove. I popped my shoulders with a sharp snap, then let them fall into a wave that rolled down my spine. My feet shifted across the terrace tiles in a glide, my knees bending and bouncing with the rhythm.

Locking in to Winter’s playing, I dropped into a low stance, knees wide, then spun up on one foot, kicking out with sharp precision. My hands sliced through the air like accents to the beat. It wasn’t a showy routine, this was intimate. A conversation between my body’s movement and the sound he offered me, flowing from his skilled fingers.

I added in some glides, pivoting with controlled balance, then twisted into a tight spin before freezing in place, perfectly still, only my fingertips twitching in sync with the bassline.

And then, something shifted. I caught his eyes.

The music grew deeper, more sensual, and I let my movements slow, smoldering instead of striking. I moved closer to him, rolling my hips in a slow groove. A pop of my chest. A pause. Then a ballet turn, light on my feet, arms arcing gracefully before I collapsed into a lock, head tilted, body still, but eyes burning into his.

Winter's fingers slowed their rhythm, his eyes never leaving me.

The final notes faded into the evening air like smoke. His hands slipped off the bass, and for a moment, he just stared.

"You play soooo good!" I exclaimed, giving him a dramatic bow, arms behind my back like I was presenting myself to a prince.

Winter snorted. "And you dance so… professionally. Like youbecamethe music. You gave it all. Like always…"

"Not sure about the ‘professional’ complement, but I’ll take the part with ‘giving it all’." I grinned. "But we definitely need to do this more often. Maybe add more elements?"

"I’d love to," he said, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Just don’t ask me to sing."

"Wait—you can sing?!Now youhaveto—"

Winter suddenly tossed the bass to the side and stood up in a single smooth, almost wild movement. He grabbed me by the waist, pulling me close, eyes glinting.

His face was right in front of mine. "What Ihaveto do," he said, voice low and deliciously dangerous, "is take you to the bedroom. That was way too sexy to let the energy go to waste."

My gaze dropped to his mouth, those sinful lips.

And I answered him, but not with words.

***

The next day, I spent hours under the scrutinizing eye of the head designer, Werner, who apparently hadn’t gotten the memo that I was a traumatized plane crash survivor and put me through the usual grind instead. But as soon as it was over, Winter and I headed out shopping in an unspoken agreement.

With a touch of embarrassment, we bought a beautiful mint-colored pillow set, complete with a very telling label: ‘nesting kit’. But we both pretended we just liked the look of it.

As soon as we got home, we made a beeline for the bedroom and got to work, building our very first… well, let’s not kid ourselves and name it properly: our first nest.

We did it mostly in silence, broken occasionally by giggles that made us feel like teenagers.

It wasn’t perfect, definitely not. Any omega could’ve built something way better, way sturdier. Ours was barely holding together. But hey, we each only had part of an omega’s nature in us, so we weren’t about to be too hard on ourselves.

When it was more or less done, Winter looked at the colorful circle of pillows with a soft, sentimental smile. Then he grew quiet and gently touched one of them.

"All is going to change, Sariel… A completely new life awaits us," he whispered.

"Yeah… but I’m not scared of change. Not with you by my side. I was in hell and back with you. It seems like a walk in a park…"

Our eyes met—and soon after, so did our lips.

I mean, come on… we had to christen our nest, right?

***

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