Page 94 of The Heart of Winter

In a state of dread, I sat on the patio couch, my stomach twisting into tight knots. I hadn’t been able to sit still all day. Even in my sleep, it was the same, dreams of explosions, of fire, of fear.

Snow was in a similar state.

The two of us had been pacing the house restlessly, glancing out the windows, feeling completely disconnected from reality.

By the time 4 pm rolled around, I sank onto the couch and downed two cups of coffee, trying to shift my energy somehow.

Aiden watched me with concern.

"I can feel your nerves, like steel cables wound so tight they might snap," he murmured, sitting beside me and wrapping an arm protectively around my shoulders.

I leaned into his warmth, into the familiar, citrusy scent of him.

"There’s this fear in me," I admitted. "This awful feeling that something terrible is about to happen."

Aiden’s gaze was gentle, his silver eyes filled with patience, with understanding.

With love.

A love so profound, so indescribable, that it was the only thing holding me together.

"I felt like this the day River ran away," I confessed. "Back then, I couldn’t define the feeling, but now I know, it’s the same fear. Maybe even worse."

"We have to believe that Fate will protect him," Aiden whispered, squeezing my hand. A grounding sensation flowed from his touch.

From the direction of the living room, I heard footsteps.

Snow stepped out of the house, followed closely by Summer, who walked with his usual slightly hunched posture, his eyes fixed on the floor. The sun briefly hit his hair, tied back in a low bun at the nape of his neck, bringing out deep golden-brown tones in his caramel strands.

They both sat down, and Snow poured Summer a glass of blueberry juice.

My eyes met Snow’s. His gaze was piercing, intense. Only he truly understood what I was feeling.

All the tangled, frayed nerves.

"Tell me it’s going to be okay, Snow," I whispered, staring at him as if the world depended on his answer. My lips were trembling uncontrollably, my teeth chattering. "Please, change whatever bad is coming…"

His chiseled features softened with a sad smile.

"Dad… my power doesn’t work that way," he said quietly. "It’s more subtle, takes more time."

Then, slowly, Snow turned his head and cast a careful glance toward Summer, hesitant, almost shy, like he wanted to suggest something but was holding back in silence.

Summer sat completely still, staring into his glass, seemingly watching flashes of light on the juice’s purple surface.

"Why didn’t Winter listen to you?" I whispered.

Snow didn’t answer.

"Gabriel listened to you," I murmured painfully. "He trusted you. He told Blue not to get on that damned plane…"

Just today, Gabriel had finally responded to Snow’s text, the one where Snow had urged him not to board the same flight that Winter had taken. Gabriel had written back to say he’d convinced his boss, Blue Lowen, to use his private jet instead.

And while I wished Gabriel the best, he was family, after all, what about my own child? What about Winter?

He was presently on that terrible plane.

And I still didn’t know what was going to happen.

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