Page 122 of Let It Snow
He frowns faintly, closing his eyes for a moment. I know he’s sensing energies, doing whatever it is he does.
And for a heartbeat, I see the shadow of sadness cross his face, maybe even uncertainty. He stands there in silence, clearly wavering, then lowers his head and closes his eyes.
He lifts a hand, and his fingers glide over my back, a caress filled with promise.
"Not forever. But yes, goodbye to… us."
I step back toward the bed and let myself fall into the soft cloud of fabric, immersed in the simple truth that, for all his magic and power, underneath it all he is still just a vivacious alpha.
???
When I get home that night, it’s already past eleven.
The kids are asleep, and Tim is back from work.
He’s sitting in his office, staring at his laptop screen. His black hair falls around his face, making him look younger. He’s so handsome. Why the hell do I so rarely notice it?
When I walk in, he glances my way, his nostrils twitching slightly.
"You were with him."
He says it flatly, with the faintest trace of disappointment. He probably thought it was over, that I wouldn’t dig it up again.
I step closer and rest my hand on his shoulder.
"I just went to say goodbye, and I asked him to help me close what started between us twelve years ago. You know he can do that."
He studies me for a moment, his dark brown eyes with long lashes moving slowly across my face.
"My chances in the election are slipping. After Dante Moll publicly backed Mark Ferguson, I lost a chunk of the beta vote overnight."
I don’t expect the change of subject, as if the other thing doesn’t even matter.
Tim looks pale, his whole body wound tight with stress. I move behind him and press my palms into his neck, massaging the stiff muscles.
"Maybe it won’t be that bad. Maybe something will turn around."
"You don’t even believe that yourself," Tim mutters bitterly. He lets me rub his shoulders for another moment, then gets up, pushing my hands away.
He turns to face me, and we stand close, eye to eye.
Tim is tall for an omega, five foot eleven, which puts him five inches above me.
I don’t back down. I step in, resting my hands against his chest.
"Don’t give up, Tim. The election isn’t decided until the votes are counted. You still have the Lowens’ support…"
He grimaces. "For plenty of people, that’s a liability. You know some Lowens are hated, like Blue. I think he holds some kind of record for assassination attempts."
I sigh. "But your brother-in-law, Sebastien Lowen… you worked with the man for so many years as a prosecutor; people remember that. He’s respected, loved, and everyone knows he’s on the right side. The Red Line Agency is doing incredible work for victimized omegas."
"Yes, but the name itself is controversial. You never know which way people will lean."
Bitterness still lingers on his face. His gaze drifts down to my neck.
"Your heat is coming," he says.
"Not for another two weeks. That’s what the doctor told me."
