Page 20 of Knot Their Safe Haven (The Omega Rebellion Movement #3)

"You're registered as pack omega to Noctuary Larissa. My pack. That's not easily undone, especially since it was medical necessity."

She was quiet for a long moment, processing.

Then:

"Seventeen years?"

I smiled, the first real smile since I'd gotten that call about the bombing.

"Seventeen years since you threw that textbook at my head for pretending not to speak French."

"You were...insufferable."

"I was eighteen and in love with my tutor. Insufferable was my only option."

Another tear slipped down her cheek, but this one felt different.

Softer, maybe. Or just tired .

"Alessandro Lucien Devereaux."

The way she said my name, like she was tasting it after years of famine, made something in my chest tighten.

"Velvet 'Scarlett' Morclair," I replied. "Though legally, you might want to consider adding Noctuary to that. The paperwork would be cleaner."

She actually rolls her eyes, the obvious annoyance only making my heart feel a tad giddy.

She was igniting that blur of excitement I used to have all the way back then, and it was one of the many reasons I liked her.

Pushing her buttons never really pushed her away.

It made her annoyed sure, but deep down, she could handle the bickering so long as our intentions were clear.

Now I’m older. We’re no longer tutor and student. I can actually stand by her side, despite the age gap. She can actually see me as a man and not some little boy…

"You're serious. About... all of this."

"Dead serious." I leaned forward, close enough that she could see the truth in my eyes. "You texted that your biggest regret was assuming those men would commit. That you would have given that student your number if you could do it over."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Well, you can't go back. But you can go forward. With someone who won't hesitate, hide, or wait twenty more years to decide if you're worth it."

"I'm almost forty."

"And?"

"That's... old. For an unclaimed Omega. Past prime. Past?—"

"Past nothing." The words came out harder than intended, but she needed to hear this. "You're mine now. That means you're perfect exactly as you are. Silver hair, battle scars, trust issues, and all."

“Trust issues,” she huffs a bit dramatically but pouts the longer she thinks about it. “Okay, yeah. A little bit.”

She stared at me, and I saw her rebuilding herself in real time.

The Rebel Queen rising from the ashes of whatever dreams she'd had about those three cowards.

“ Do…you have a pack?”

“Yes.”

"Do they know?"

"They're eager to meet you,” I reassure her. “Alexia is flying in tonight. The twins have a recovery cottage ready if you want privacy."

"Twins?"

"Dante and Damon. They're..intense. But loyal."

"And Alexia?"

"Is a female Alpha who'll probably want to paint your nails and discuss overthrowing the patriarchy within five minutes of meeting you."

That got an almost-smile, quickly suppressed.

“Do you have anything against a female Alpha?”

“Nope,” she admits and manages a slight lift of her shoulders that are probably stiff from her laying down for so long through surgery. “I’ve never been strict with whom I dated when it comes to the genders, though this is a first actually being romantic with a female which will be peculiar.”

“But again something you’re open with.”

She nods and even smirks genuinely. “I’m open to it. It’s not against the rules if she’s an Alpha, right?”

“We both know that even if it was against the rules, that wouldn’t stop you, would it?”

“No,” she admits almost gleefully, her tired eyes twinkling with a hint of excitement.

Like she’s finally getting a chance to start over again.

"This is insane,” she quietly whispers.”

"Yes."

"You know… you can't just... claim someone. Like property” I’m sure she’s trying to logically think this through.

"I didn't claim property. I claimed responsibility. For your medical care, recovery, and safety. What happens after that is up to you."

"But legally?—"

"Legally, you're protected. Medically, you're covered. Personally? That's for you to decide when the drugs wear off and you can think clearly."

I wanted to emphasize that she’s in full control of this next chapter of her life.

Not to feel as if I’m forcing her into this simply because I saved her.

She closed her eyes, exhaustion pulling at her features.

The conversation had taken what little energy she'd recovered, and I could see her fighting to stay conscious.

"Rest," I said softly. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Why?" The question was barely a whisper.

"Because seventeen years ago, a beautiful woman teaching French to a lying teenager said something that stuck.

" I tucked a strand of silver-purple hair behind her ear.

"She said I'd be dangerous when I was older.

She was right. Dangerous enough to take what I want, to fight for what matters, to claim what those cowards couldn't."

“Hmm.” I bet she’s trying to think of how to answer. Her breathing had evened out, sleep pulling her under again. But just before she went completely under, she whispered:

"Emerald eyes...in the water..."

I froze.

She'd seen me. Somehow, drowning and drugged, she'd seen me in those final moments.

I'd pulled her from the water myself, diving in while the world burned above us, following the beacon of her purple hair through the murky depths.

She'd seen me save her.

I sat back in my chair, picking up the romance novel again. Chapter thirteen now, apparently featuring something called a "healing heat" that sounded medically improbable but emotionally resonant.

My phone buzzed. The pack chat, probably. Or business that couldn't wait.

I ignored it all.

Velvet slept, occasionally murmuring words I couldn't catch.

The monitors beeped steadily, confirming what the surgery had accomplished.

She'd heal, walk, and live another glorious day.

And when she woke— really woke, not drugged and confused but fully herself —we'd have a different conversation.

One about choices and futures and what it meant to be claimed by someone who'd waited seventeen years to make his move.

The fallout would be spectacular.

Knox would rage. Malcolm would cite ethics violations. Adyani would speak of stolen choices.

The media would have a field day if they found out.

The Rebel Queen claimed by a billionaire seventeen years her junior, part of a pack that included female Alphas and twins who shared everything.

A jubilee of theatrics.

I had seventeen years of patience, three days of fury, and an entire pack ready to go to war for a woman they'd never met but had already accepted as ours.

Fate is truly an entertainer.

The billionaire in the novel was now apparently capable of healing his Omega through the power of his "alpha essence," whatever that meant. I snorted, but kept reading.

Even ridiculous fiction was better than thinking about what would happen when Velvet woke up and chose violence.

Because she would.

The Rebel Queen didn't accept anything without a fight.

Good thing I'd always been dangerous.

It’s about time she witnessed what it was like to have a pack in your corner who will fight the world for you.

The monitor beeped as Velvet, shifted slightly. Deep in sleep and burrowing into the blankets.

As for me, I waited, like I'd been waiting for seventeen years, for the war that was coming.

A war was most definitely coming, and with all the pieces laid out on the battlefield, I was certain the battle would be glorious.