Page 47 of Redeeming His Omega Mate

“Tala Vale,” she finished for me.

I stilled.

She studied me for a long moment, her gaze flickering like she was seeing something beyond what was in front of her. “You’re carrying a heavy emotional burden, with unexpressed feelings and unresolved issues, leaving you uncertain about your way forward. No wonder it weighs you down.”

I swallowed.

Despite the cryptic way she spoke, I understood every word. She knew me. Many people did. After my brutal rejection, my reputation had spread far beyond what I ever wanted. But this was different. The way she spoke wasn’t just knowing my name or my past. It was as if she had unraveled me in an instant.

I straightened, clearing my throat. Since there was no need for pleasantries anymore, I got straight to the point.

“I didn’t come here for myself,” I said. “I came here for my daughter.”

“Nymera.”

“Huh?” I blinked, caught off guard.

“My name,” she said. “It’s Nymera.”

I nodded slowly.

“I need your help, Nymera,” I said. “My daughter is troubled by gory nightmares, and it’s starting to distort her reality.”

Nymera held my gaze as I spoke, silent and unreadable. Then, just as I finished, her eyes shifted, drifting past me, focusing on something unseen.

I glanced over my shoulder, following her line of sight. Nothing. Just an empty space.

When I turned back, she was already moving toward me.

“Come in, child,” she murmured. “The answers you seek are already waiting.”

I settled into one of the sparse chairs while Nymera disappeared into another section of the house. She returned two minutes later, carrying a sizzling teapot and a single cup.

“Oh, no, thank you,” I said quickly before she could set it down. “I’m not really in the mood for tea.”

Ignoring my refusal, she placed the pot and cup on the table and then poured the steaming liquid, anyway. Pushing the cup toward me, she lowered herself onto the floor, settling in front of a small table cluttered with cards, beads, and other objects I couldn’t identify.

“The tea will open your mind to me,” she said simply. “Drink. Then come sit in front of me.”

I hesitated but eventually reached for the cup, taking a few sips. The taste was earthy and slightly bitter but not unpleasant.

Setting the cup down, I moved to sit across from her on the cold floor.

“Give me your hand,” she instructed.

“I told you. I’m not here for myself. I’m here for my daughter.”

Nymera tilted her head slightly. “Then why didn’t you bring her with you?”

When I didn’t respond, she continued. “It’s because you seek the same answers for yourself as you do for her.” She extended her hand again. “So, give me your hand, and let’s get on with it.”

Hesitation tugged at me, a small part of me urging me to walk away from this. But the larger part, the part desperate for answers, kept me rooted in place.

She was right. I didn’t just want the truth for Aria. I wanted it formyself, too. Why were we having the same dream? And what did it mean?

Slowly, I placed my hand in hers.

Nymera’s long fingers traced the lines of my palm. Her eyes drifted shut, and she began to murmur in a language I couldn’t understand.

---