Page 6 of Knot Their Safe Haven
The silence stretches between us, sixty seconds of eye contact that says everything we won't voice. I can smell him from here—cedarwood and smoke, that particular musk that's purely Knox. My body responds without permission, heat pooling low in my belly, nipples tightening beneath the wine-red dress.
One of these days, this tension is going to snap and destroy us both.
"I'm gonna go shower," Astraea whines, breaking the spell.
The conversation shifts to hair dye—safe territory. Knox suggests red because of course he does, his favorite color, and I have to punch him for being an idiot. She doesn't need to be a walking target for Alphas.
"Why not purple? You do love lavender."
She lights up at the suggestion, and we discuss ombre effects and silver tips while Knox makes his presence known with commentary that earns him more hits.
"Bye Mom and Dad," Astraea teases, and Knox actually says "We're not married yet!"
Yet. As if it's inevitable. As if I haven't been running from that exact possibility for two decades.
"Yet? You don't even have the balls to ask me on a Date, let alone propose marriage. You're lucky I can't adopt Astraea, or I would adopt her, then find a real man with bigger muscles than you!"
"Now, now, Velvet. You know just because their biceps may be bigger doesn't mean their cock?—"
"YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO SPEAK LIKE THAT WITH ASTRAEA AROUND!"
We wrestle like children, like lovers, like everything we are and aren't. His hands on me burn through the dress, and I have to force myself to pull away before I do something stupid like kiss him in front of Astraea.
When she leaves, calling us Mom and Dad again, something clenches in my chest.
If only she knew she might be getting a new brother soon. If Icarus has his way with that silver-haired girl he's been stalking online.
Knox pulls me against him the moment we're alone, nose buried in my neck, breathing me in like a drowning man seeking air.
"You're going to kill me, woman."
"That's the plan," I murmur, but my hands betray me, sliding up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
"How is she really?"
"Breaking." I pull back to look at him. "The same way I was at that age. The same way too many of them are."
"The movement passed yesterday."
"I heard. Alessandro called at midnight, drunk on champagne and victory."
Knox's jaw tightens at the mention of Alessandro. His unexpected call was surprisingly. The boy I’d once taught at the prime age of eighteen while I was twenty-three trying to make some added cash after the “independent life” as an Omega was clearly not favoring me. Who knew that boy would end up becoming an power influence in our community, but I’ve only listened to rumors of his existence. We’ve yet to actually “reunite” for me to see who he really has become.
Whether he’s truly an ally or a facade in the realms of support.
"That boy needs to learn boundaries."
"He's thirty-five."
"Still a boy compared to you. You need men in your lives who will support you. Not a boy with a cocky attitude and a generous trust fun.” I can hear the jealousy oozing off his deep voice, the obvious emotional toil making me smirk because I can tell this figure who’s “just a boy” has made enough waves in the underground to make Knox a tad nervous.
Nervous of me being swept off my feet by this “cocky” Alpha on the block of fame and fortune.
"Everything all right in here?" Malcolm's voice cuts through the tension, and we spring apart like guilty teenagers.
He's standing in the doorway in his pristine lab coat, navy hair tied back, those midnight eyes taking in our flushed faces and guilty positions.
"Just discussing the morning schedule," I lie smoothly.
