“That’s not enough.”
“It’s plenty. Knox, I survived five years without you. Years of raising our children alone in a human town while rogues circled the woods, of running a business and paying bills and keeping us safe with nothing but a baseball bat and sheer stubbornness. I’m not weak.”
He flinched, his eyes flashing gold for just a second before he got control of himself.
“I know you’re not weak,” he said quietly. “I know you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I know you survived years that would have broken most people and came out the other side fierce and whole and perfect.” He paused. “I also know that you surviving without me is my fault. My failure. That I left you alone and unprotected because I was a coward who thought walking away would keep you safe.”
“Knox.”
“I fucking hate myself for that. Every time I look at Rowan and Thea and realize I missed their first five years. Every time I thinkabout you facing rogues alone. Every time I remember that you didn’t have anyone to help you through your pregnancy or hold your hand during delivery or be there when you were scared.” His voice cracked slightly. “I hate myself for it. And I can’t change the past, no matter how much I wish to. But I can make damn sure nothing happens to you now.”
My throat felt tight. The mate bond hummed between us, carrying his guilt and fear and desperate need to protect what he’d failed to protect before.
“You can’t bubble wrap me,” I said softly.
“I know.”
“You can’t lock me away.”
“I know that too.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want to know you’re safe when I can’t be there. I want to sleep at night without worrying that another rogue is going to attack. I want our children to grow up withbothparents alive and whole.” He reached out, his hand settling over my stomach where the baby kicked restlessly. “I want this child to know their father from day one. Not five years later. Not after you’ve had to do everything alone again.”
We stared at each other while the mate bond pulled tight between us, humming with tension and unspoken fear. This was the same argument we’d been having for months. He wanted me safe. I wanted to be normal. Neither of us was willing to bend.
“One more guard,” he said finally. “Just one. They stay back unless there’s a problem. You probably won’t even notice they’re there. But they’ll be close enough to help if anything happens.”
It wasn’t everything he wanted. It was more than I wanted. But it was a compromise we could both live with.
“Fine,” I agreed. “One guard. But they don’t follow me into the bathroom or hover while I’m working. They stay outside. Discreet. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“And you have to stop texting me every thirty minutes asking if I’m okay.”
“Every one hour.”
“Every four hours.”
“Two.”
“Deal.”
The tension broke slightly. Knox leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my nose, then finally my mouth. Soft and sweet and full of love.
“Love you,” he murmured against my lips.
“Love you too. Even when you’re being overprotective and making me want to strangle you with my bare hands.”
“Especially then?”
“Especially then.”
He smiled. A real smile that made his whole face soften and his eyes crinkle at the corners. These moments were rare enough that I treasured them. Knox didn’t let many people see him unguarded. But he let me. Always me.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it, expecting a message from Mika or Vivi about tomorrow’s schedule.
