Page 10 of Knot Their Safe Haven
I don't regret having him.God, I could never regret Icarus.But I wonder sometimes if we did him a disservice, raising him in shadows and secrets. He learned to lie before he learned to read, learned to compartmentalize his life before he understood what family meant.
Maybe that's why he's so good at the game now. We taught him from birth that love comes with conditions, that family requires distance, that power matters more than connection.
A wave of dizziness hits me, and I have to lean against the wall for support.
What the…
The wine from earlier, probably, combined with the emotional whiplash of seeing my son and kissing Knox and pretending everything is normal when nothing about our lives has ever been normal.
"Dehydration," I mutter to myself, already hearing Malcolm's voice in my head. "Or low blood sugar. Or stress. Or any of the twelve other things you're always lecturing me about."
"You need to take better care of yourself, Velvet."
"I take fine care of myself."
"Three bottles of wine and forgotten meals isn't self-care."
"It is when you're running a revolution."
The hallway feels too long as I make my way back to my office, each step reminding me that I'm not twenty-five anymore. The harsh fluorescent lights catch my reflection in a window—smudged lipstick from Knox's kiss, eyes a little too bright from wine and want, that single gray hair at my temple mocking me despite the obvious purple which makes me smirk in wonder whether I should dye my hair.'
Man…I’m getting old, too, huh…
My office is still a disaster zone when I return.
Papers everywhere, empty bottles standing guard, the remnants of my life's work spread across every surface. The movement passed, but there's still so much to do. Safe houses to fund, Omegas to protect, a government to keep in check.
And a son to keep from doing something stupid with Astraea.
I saw the way he looked when he caught her scent, that sudden sharpening of focus that means an Alpha has found something worth hunting. She's strong enough to handle him—maybe—but she doesn't need the complication. Not with everything else she's dealing with.
And God knows Icarus doesn't do anything halfway. When he wants something, he takes it, consequences be damned.
Wonder where he got that from.
I settle behind my desk, pulling the nearest stack of papers toward me.
Financial reports that need reviewing, legal documents requiring signatures, correspondence from Omegas seeking shelter.
This is my life—paperwork and protection, revolution and regulation.
But my mind keeps drifting to Knox's lips on mine, to the heat in his eyes, to the way he held me like I was something precious even after all these years.
"We're fine."
Are we, though?
Are any of us fine with this half-life we've built?
Knox and I circle each other endlessly, never quite landing. Malcolm tends to my wounds and my heart in equal measure, never pushing for more than I'm willing to give. Adyani loves me from across oceans, waiting for me to be ready for something I might never be ready for.
The computer screen blurs as exhaustion finally catches up with me.
Forty years old in eight months, running on wine and spite, trying to save the world while my own heart remains carefully locked away.
Maybe Icarus inherited more than just my eyes. Maybe he got my talent for self-destruction too.
I reach for another document, forcing myself to focus.
