Page 9 of Knot Their Safe Haven
I force myself to break away, both of us panting.
My lips feel swollen, tingling, and I can taste him—coffee and mint and that particular flavor that's purely Knox.
I arch an eyebrow at him, trying to regain my composure despite the heat pooling low in my belly.
"That's not like you. Risking us getting caught like this."
His thumb traces my lower lip, and I have to fight not to take it into my mouth.
"I second-guessed myself earlier. With the taunting. Wanted to make sure we're okay."
The vulnerability in his eyes makes my chest tight. This man—this powerful, dangerous, incredible man—still worries about us after all these years. After everything we've been through, everything we've hidden and sacrificed.
I sigh, letting my usual armor fall away for just a moment.
Rising on my tiptoes, I press a soft, tender kiss to his lips. Nothing like the passion of moments before—this is comfort, reassurance, a promise that we're still here, still us, still whatever we are after two decades of this dance.
"We're fine," I whisper against his mouth, feeling the tension drain from his muscles. "You'd think after twenty years of our bickering, you wouldn't still get insecure."
He nods but doesn't let go, pulling me into a proper hug that makes me feel small and protected despite everything I am. His chin rests on top of my head, and for a moment, we're not the Safe Haven Omega and the Gym Alpha Owner. We're just Knox and Velvet, parents to a son the world doesn't know about, lovers who can't quite commit, two people who found each other in violence and learned to love in shadows.
Crazy to admit I still love this man to death…
"I'll bother you later?"
I pull back with a smirk.
"If it's when I'm sipping my wine, then hell no. Try again another day."
"How about when you're in the shower?" His hands slide down to squeeze my ass, and I squeak indignantly. "I could help you wash those hard-to-reach places."
"Go tame your photocopy!" I shoo him away, but I'm fighting a smile. "Before he corrupts every Omega in the building with his presence."
"Our photocopy," he corrects with a smirk. "But yeah, he did get your eyes. That same 'I'll burn the world down if you test me' look."
He heads back toward the gym, leaving me alone in the hallway with my racing thoughts and tingling lips.
Twenty years.
I showed up at his gym, bruised and broken and ready to fight the world.He taught me to channel my rage into something useful. Twenty years since one particularly brutal sparring session turned into something else entirely, sweat and anger transforming into passion against the gym mats.
Nine months later, Icarus was born.
We kept it secret from everyone—even Malcolm and Adyani don't know, but I’m sure they’ve already pieced it all together, but are waiting for us to finally bring it up. The world thinks Icarus is just another talented Alpha who worked his way up from nothing. They don't know about the late-night feedings where Knox would hold him while I tried not to cry from exhaustion. They don't know about the first words; "mama" at eight months, "fuck" at ten months — Knox's contribution, obviously, the first steps, chasing after one of my high heels, the first time he presented as an Alpha and nearly tore the safe house apart.
They don't know that every success he has makes my chest swell with pride even as I maintain distance in public.
Would things have been different if we'd committed?
If I'd let Knox claim me properly, made us a real family instead of this careful charade?
I think about Sunday dinners that never were, about school plays attended separately, about explaining to a five-year-old Icarus why Mommy and Daddy couldn't live together even though they loved each other.
"Because sometimes, baby, loving someone doesn't mean you're meant to be together all the time."
"That's stupid, Mama."
"Yeah, baby. It really is."
