Page 6 of The Heart of Winter

And then, in a low, firm voice, he finally replied, "The problem is, Sariel, I truly do live by this rule: all or nothing. And I choose nothing because, in this, I can’t have everything."

He sounded logical. Rational. But still… damn. That was tragic.

Blue stepped off the deck, pressing a button on the side of his glasses. "I’ll walk you out. The guys don’t know you too well yet."

We crossed the slightly elevated terrace overlooking the pool from the back and went inside through the massive glass doors of Blue’s penthouse.

I knew those windows were bulletproof. A while back, a drone had tried to fly into his house and fired at the glass. Blue didn’t make the same mistake twice—no more regular windows.

Two guards stood watch at the penthouse exit that led to the private elevator. I didn’t recognize them, probably new hires. A small prick of unease crept in. Blue was forced to trust strangers with his safety now. He didn’t have much of a choice, but still… it was risky.

"Take care," I muttered. I was tempted to give him a light tap on his thin shoulder, but I knew better.

"You too," he replied. "And I’m telling you: don’t think too much. It’ll drive you crazy. Act. That’s what helps scare the demons away."

***

Since it was Sunday, by the time I got home around 11:30 am, my parents were just sitting down to lunch, so I gave up on showering. My dad was big on family traditions, he believed that shared meals kept us together.

Our house was in the city’s most luxurious district, sandwiched between my Uncle Sebastien’s place on one side and my Uncle Victor’s on the other.

It was close to downtown. My father could get to work in seven minutes by car.

Our home was somewhat similar to Blue’s penthouse, but larger and with fewer security features. As the CEO of a software company, my father kept his distance from politics, social programs, ideologies, and anything controversial. He didn’t need bulletproof windows. A surveillance system and one long-time bodyguard were enough.

Our estate was part of a long stretch of high-end residences lining a scenic canal. Every inch of the neighborhood was meticulously designed, and our house had been crafted by the best architects in the city.

I had lived there since birth, gone to an elite private high school nearby, and commuted to campus from home, never needing to stay in a dorm. This certainly set me apart from other students. I was the outsider, the rich kid with the weird mint-colored hair.

When I stepped into the dining room, my parents and brother were already at the table.

"Did you dance? You stink!" My brother’s voice was like the creaking of a door, drilling into my brain.

I grimaced and extended my middle finger to him. Vren rolled his eyes.

My father’s expression was intense, his brows furrowed. Immediately, I could feel it. That heavy, almost combative energy in the air, like he was gearing up for something. I glanced at him tentatively and sank into my seat.

A bit of my backstory.

I was the result of one of the rarest possible genetic combinations in our world—the son of two omegas.

99.99% of the time, omega sperm was infertile. But in about one in ten thousand cases, an omega could have viable sperm. Some scientific literature referred to them as ‘gammas’ instead of omegas, since they could also form a knot, making them even more distinct from regular omegas. However, the term wasn’t widely known due to the rarity of such cases.

My sire was one of them. Technically, I shouldn’t have called him ‘Father’. In our world, ‘Fathers’ were alphas—the sires. Omegas who gave birth were ‘Dads’.

But in our house, I’d always called my sire ‘Father’, or ‘Fa’ for short, even though the people around him considered him a regular omega. He had heats like an omega, smelled like one, and looked like one too.

But he'd never been interested in alphas, only ever dating omegas. When he met my Dad, he had no idea how things would end up. When Dad went into heat, neither of them had any reason to think it would lead to anything. But a month later, when Dad started throwing up nonstop… it turned out he was pregnant.

It caused a rough patch in their relationship. Fa accused Dad of cheating; he just couldn’t believe he was actually the sire. But a genetic test on the amniotic fluid confirmed he was, no room for doubt.

Nine months later, the twins were born: me and my brother Vren.

My parents got married and stayed together all these years, making a pretty solid couple. Their marriage was also strongly supported by my grandfather, since my dad came from a wealthy family of bankers and brought a sizable fortune with him, one that helped DevApp grow.

They never had any more kids, though. Their intense careers didn’t leave much room for a big family. For the most part, we were raised by nannies because our parents were at work pretty much from morning till night.

But that didn’t mean they had low expectations for us. So far, only my brother had met them; he’d finished college two years ahead of schedule and was now a manager at one of my grandfather’s banks.

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