Page 232 of The Heart of Winter

Life with Winter fell into place so effortlessly, it almost felt surreal. Strangely smooth; but then again, maybe not so strange for a fated pair?

We had no problems adjusting to daily life together, not even with the usual domestic stuff like chores. We liked the same food, the same movies, the same music. Everything just clicked.

At work, our relationship didn’t shock anyone either. Manager Lorens even claimed he’d seen it coming from the start, but I didn’t believe him, since he had a knack for sucking up.

It quickly became a routine: as soon as we got home from work, Winter and I would practically pounce on each other, fucking passionately or making love, more slowly and gently. Sometimes it lasted for hours, with us easily swapping roles mid-flow, because neither of us was bound to just one. In the end, we both represented two sides now—Alpha and Omega—in one.

On long evenings, lying tangled in bed, Winter would sometimes trace my face with his fingers, gazing at me like he still couldn’t quite believe we were real.

Every so often, he’d admit that he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, heart pounding, terrified he was back on that cold, empty beach. I was amazed and grateful that he trusted me enough to be vulnerable like that.

Only then did I admit that I, too, had moments of panic, how some nights, I’d wake up feeling shaky and unsteady, like I was about to fall into the abyss.

We talked openly about our fears and hopes, slowly weaving a deeper intimacy between us.

After a few weeks, the worst of our night terrors faded. The magic of True Mates had done its quiet work, gently healing the cracked places in both our minds. The trauma from the island no longer hovered over us like a storm cloud, but had dissolved, losing its power.

One of the most unexpectedly joyful parts of our new life?

We were both pregnant.

We spent hours comparing symptoms, inspecting changes in our bodies, and reading endless pregnancy articles aloud to each other. Every detail fascinated us. We were changing together, growing together, learning, and it felt like something sacred.

And thanks to the perks of being fated mates, we didn’t experience any of the usual downsides. No morning sickness, no bloating, no fatigue. Instead, we got to enjoy the infamous spike in libido that came with perfect mateship pregnancies… and we made full use of it.

Day by day, I watched Winter change, soften. The once-distant, cautious man became warmer, more open to cuddling, more likely to reach for me just because he could. He wasn’t shy about initiating touch or sex anymore, and he admitted it was a new, kind of thrilling experience for him. The safety of our bond gave him the space to explore new ways of expressing himself.

We were building something very much our own, different from what we had on the island. This time, it was in a world that was safe, stable, and calm. We didn’t have to fight through extremes anymore… though we both knew that if things ever got rough again, we could count on each other completely.

That kind of bond, earned through near-death and survival, wasn’t something most couples had. We deeply appreciated everything we had.

But maybe the best part of all was how profoundly we understood each other. We didn’t just share similar tastes, we had similar ways of seeing the world, of thinking and responding. Yet, we weren’t the same. We weren’t copies, we werecomplements. A perfect match, not a mirror.

Looking back, it seemed almost ridiculous we hadn’t realized we were destined for each other sooner.

Sure, I’d felt it, somewhere in the background, a hum I couldn’t name. But I hadn’t let myself believe it one hundred percent, until the test confirmed it. And once it did, everything just… settled.

No more doubt. No more stress.

Just ease. Just harmony.

Or maybe, better yet—synergy.

LAKE

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

"A real madhouse," I muttered to Aiden, who was calmly chopping vegetables for broth. "The boys are having a great time, but it’s a double birth, and I’m a little stressed," I added, trying to sound casual but knowing my adrenaline was showing anyway.

We were in the kitchen at Sariel and Winter’s apartment, and in the living room, just a few steps away, was the inflatable birthing pool they’d set up weeks ago, now filled and warm. The pair of them sat inside, half-submerged, completely focused on breathing and… each other. We were just sort of invisible spectators.

I could feel the special kind of energy circulating around the place—it was a bit euphoric, definitely something intense.

Aiden gave me one of those grins that still melted me, even after four decades together. "Lake, come on," he said, slicing a carrot. "They’re True Mates. Everything’s going to be just fine."

I smiled despite myself, then leaned in and wrapped my arms around him. So many years, and he was still my safe place. My anchor. I sometimes wondered how we had ended up with such a big, messy, beautiful family, but it always came back to this, to us.

His silver eyes twinkled with warmth. He touched my lower back, pressing lightly like he always did when I was tense. "You’re wound up here, and here, and here," he said, grinning as he prodded me. "Don’t worry, babe. We’re about to be grandparents again. At this point, we’re basically professionals."

---