Page 16 of Crow’s Haven (Savage Legion MC #15)

Sharon

I wake slowly, drifting in a peaceful warmth.

It feels like I’m covered by a weighted blanket.

It takes me a moment to realize it’s Crow’s big body draped over mine.

I soak up the luxury of being in his bed and the heady smell of sex that’s still hanging heavy in the air.

Being tangled in sheets with Crow’s big, strong body seems like some kind of wild dream come true.

His strong, steady breathing lets me know he’s not awake yet, so I snuggle back against him.

But as I move, soreness pulls pleasantly through my body.

The kind of aches that come from enthusiastic sex.

Memories come flooding back of his mouth on mine, his gentle hands exploring my body.

We exchanged promises whispered in the dark and he asked me to be his old lady.

I smile, pressing my face against the pillow to hide the heat rising in my cheeks.

It feels so impossibly good to be wanted like this.

And being cherished and safe never gets old.

But just as quickly, the shadow returns, crowding out all the good thoughts with bad ones. My chest tightens as I remember that I’m a fugitive from justice.

If we want to have any kind of future together then I need to tell him.

When Crow shifts in his sleep, putting me closer into his warm embrace, I realize the tiny bit of happiness I’ve found is sweet, fragile, and will shatter in an instant when Crow finds out about my dark past. He’s a family man and won’t want someone accused of killing a little boy around his twins.

I turn over in his arms to face him. He’s still asleep, his ink-covered chest rising and falling at a slow, steady pace.

God, he’s handsome. More than I ever dreamed I’d find.

And he’s a genuinely good man, strong, reliable, kind to the core.

Just watching him breathe makes something ache inside me.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice deep and scratchy with sleep. His eyes are still closed but he’s smiling.

“Good morning,” I whisper, smoothing my fingertips softly over his shoulder.

His eyes drift open, catching mine with that look that makes my heart flutter. “Sleep good?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” I admit softly.

He leans forward and kisses me soundly. It’s enough to make my pulse quicken again. “Me too,” he whispers against my lips, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “I could get used to this.”

His words are sweet but painful too, adding to the layer of guilt that never fully leaves my chest. But before I can sink deeper into worry, small footsteps pound down the hall, laughter drifting ahead of them.

Crow grins, shaking his head gently. “Heads up. We’ve got incoming.”

Scout barrels in first, launching himself onto the foot of the bed. Chase follows close behind, climbing up more carefully, eyes bright with excitement.

“Go make pancakes,” Scout demands, crawling closer until his small hands find my cheeks, tugging gently for my attention. “But we need syrup too.”

I chuckle softly, tugging the blanket up all the way to my neck. “We’ll get right on that.”

Crow’s hand brushes gently against the small of my back as we both sit up, sharing a quick look that warms me to the core. He shoos the boys away and we take turns in the shower.

Breakfast feels cozy and familiar. I move around the kitchen, passing plates, refilling juice cups, and smiling every time Crow brushes past me, lingering close enough to steal quick, affectionate touches. It’s simple, domestic, and achingly perfect.

Scout chatters nonstop about school, Chase sits quieter, poking thoughtfully at his pancakes, watching me carefully in a way I haven’t seen before.

After a long pause, he finally speaks, “Ladybug?”

“Hmm?” I reply, cutting the pancakes into smaller pieces.

He bites his lip, gaze serious, eyes wide and hopeful, “Can we call you Mom now?”

The room stills. Scout freezes mid-bite, Crow’s gaze lifts instantly from his plate, surprise flickering across his features.

My heart clenches painfully. I glance at Crow, who clears his throat gently, his voice gentle but firm.

“Chase, buddy, I think it might be a little early for that. Ladybug’s family but mom is a special word, something we don’t rush.”

Chase’s hopeful expression falls slightly, disappointment dimming the light in his eyes. “Oh. Okay.”

Scout reaches over, nudging his brother gently with his elbow. “Don’t worry, dummy. Maybe later. She’s not going anywhere, right?”

Chase nods slowly, taking comfort in his brother’s reassurance. “Right. Ladybugs stay.”

Crow’s eyes catch mine again, quiet understanding passing between us. He reaches beneath the table, his fingers brushing against mine, giving a gentle squeeze. I squeeze back, grateful for the comfort even as guilt twists tighter around my heart.

Because the truth is, Chase isn’t wrong.

In every way that matters, I already feel like their mother.

I want to be that for them, so much it hurts.

But the day my dark past comes to light, it will take this all away in an instant.

I’m pretending to belong to a family I might not get to keep, and that feels dangerously close to betrayal.

Crow values truth, honesty, and loyalty above all things.

I can’t even predict how he’s going to respond when he finds out.

As breakfast continues, warm laughter returns to the room, the brief tension fading away. Crow catches my gaze frequently, his eyes tender and questioning, checking in, making sure I’m okay.

I nod each time, pretending everything is fine. But inside, the truth is loud and clear: I can’t keep living a lie. Somehow, soon, I have to find the courage to tell him everything. And I’ll just have to trust that the family we’re building is strong enough to survive the truth.

I look around the table. I won’t lose this without a fight.

I won’t lose them without trying everything I can to keep them.

I’ve finally found something worth fighting for.

Worth coming clean for. Crow and his boys are worth risking everything.

We get the boys out the door and Crow drops them off on his way to his newest property rehab.

***

When my phone buzzes later in the morning, I don’t expect to see the school’s number lighting up my screen. My heart sinks instantly, worried that something happened to the boys.

“Hello?” I answer quickly, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Ms. Jackson?” It’s the receptionist from the school. “We need you to come in. There’s been a bit of an incident with Scout and Chase. We tried to call their father but all we got was voicemail.”

“Are they okay?” My heart pounds, my hand gripping the phone tightly.

“They’re fine, but we’d prefer to speak with you in person.”

“I’ll be right there,” I assure her. My pulse thunders in my ears the entire drive, imagining everything from fights, to broken bones, to playground disasters. I text Crow at a red light, just a quick:

Me: Boys in trouble at school. Heading there now. I’ll update you.

When I arrive, the receptionist leads me to Ms. Fields’ classroom.

Inside, I find Scout and Chase sitting side by side on tiny plastic chairs near the teacher’s desk.

Chase’s cheeks are flushed with worry, Scout frowning stubbornly, arms crossed tight.

Relief washes over me to find that they’re safe and in one piece, at least.

I kneel in front of them, gentle but firm. “What happened?”

Scout looks away, embarrassed. Chase fidgets, eyes wide and apologetic. Before they can explain, Ms. Fields interrupts sharply from behind her desk.

“What happened, Ms. Jackson, is that the boys decided it was appropriate to smuggle wildlife into my classroom. We don’t tolerate that sort of misbehavior.”

I turn slowly, taken aback by her tone. She’s glaring at the boys with disproportionate anger.

“Wildlife?” I ask, trying to keep calm. “What exactly did they bring?”

“A frog,” Scout mutters softly, eyes downcast.

Chase adds timidly, “His name’s Freddy.”

My lips twitch with suppressed laughter despite the tension. A frog of all things.

Ms. Fields, however, is not amused. Her voice drips disdain. “Frogs belong outside, not contaminating my classroom. Their behavior is disruptive and inappropriate.”

I straighten, irritation prickling at her words. “I understand bringing a frog to school was inappropriate. I’ll handle it at home. But disruptive seems excessive. They’re six-year-olds. Couldn’t this be handled with a quiet conversation?”

She bristles visibly, voice sharpening. “They disrupted my lesson plan and made a mockery of my rules. Frankly, if they continue to behave like this, I question whether they belong in my class.”

Her cold dismissal ignites something fierce in me. I glance down at the boys, catching Chase’s frightened expression. Scout holds his breath, clearly waiting for my response. Their faces strengthen my resolve.

“I’d like to schedule a meeting with the principal, please,” I say firmly, holding her gaze without flinching. “Immediately.”

Ms. Fields hesitates, clearly taken aback. But she nods tightly, “I’ll call his office.”

While she steps outside, I kneel again, cupping each of the boys’ faces gently. “You’re not in big trouble,” I reassure them softly. “But no more frogs at school, okay?”

Scout nods solemnly, looking relieved. “Okay.”

Chase hugs my neck quickly. “Sorry, Ladybug.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper, hugging him back.

Five minutes later, I’m seated in the principal’s office, my heart is pounding, my nerves are frayed. Crow arrives moments after, striding into the room confidently, his presence immediately calming me.

He sits close, our knees touching beneath the table. “What happened?” he asks quietly, eyes darkening protectively.

“Boys caught a frog and brought it to class,” I explain briefly. “But the teacher’s reaction was harsh. I wanted you here.”

He nods, voice steady, reassuring. “I’m glad you did.”