Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

The sharp sting of sweat drips into my eyes as I pummel the heavy bag. Each impact sends shockwaves through my arms, the satisfying thud echoing in the near-empty gym. It’s late, most of the other fighters have cleared out, but I can’t stop. Not yet. Not when I’m so close to the biggest fight of my career.

The only thing keeping me from spiraling into the abyss of my own thoughts now that I’m separate from my pack and have twenty-four-seven to contemplate just how much I hate myself.

A part of me wants to just call it off, but the truth is, I could use the distraction. It’s been days since Rhys texted me to let me know Ophelia is out of her heat. And that she agreed to move in with the pack.

On the one hand, I’m relieved. She’s not out there anymore, working at shady clubs, at the mercy of strange alphas who treat her like…

Like I did.

The thought makes my gut clench with self-loathing and I channel that feeling into pummeling the bag until sand starts to spring free. Tony’s gonna have to put that on my tab.

On the other hand, I feel like this is the beginning of the end. The rest of the pack is closing ranks around Ophelia, and I’m on the outside. Where I belong, where I deserve to stay, but it doesn’t stop me from hating it.

If I could just see her one more time, convince her to talk to me…

What? She’d come falling back to my arms?

Yeah, right.

I don’t deserve another chance. Hell, I didn’t deserve the first one. The fact that she’s the omega the others have become obsessed with means nothing.

No, that’s not entirely true. It means they saw her and immediately recognized her for the gift she is. They saw what I was too much of a blind, immature, selfish fucking asshole to see.

And now, I’m going to lose her again. I’m going to lose all of them.

I throw another combination, my fists a blur of motion. Left jab, right cross, left hook. The bag swings wildly, and I dance around it, light on my feet despite the exhaustion creeping into my muscles.

‘Leon, man, you gotta call it a night,’ Tony’s voice cuts through the rhythm of my punches. ‘You’ll wear yourself out before the fight even starts.’

I ignore him, landing a vicious uppercut that makes the chains rattle. Tony sighs, and I can picture him shaking his head without even looking.

‘I’m fine,’ I growl, not breaking my flow. ‘Just need to get a few more rounds in.’

‘You said that an hour ago,’ Tony counters, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. ‘Come on, big guy. Time to rest those muscles.’

I’m about to argue when a scent hits me, subtle but unmistakable. Omega. Sweet and syrupy, it cuts through the stale gym air like a knife. It’s nothing like the light, intoxicating aroma of the ocean, more cloying and sweet, and I look up and see Tony’s daughter traipsing back behind the main counter as she chats with a regular. But it’s enough to take me back down memory lane, to remind me of the night I fucked up everything. My fists falter mid-combo, and suddenly I’m not in the gym anymore.

I’m back in that summer night, seven years ago. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and ocean. Ophelia. Her blue eyes sparkle in the moonlight, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she leads me by the hand through her backyard.

‘Leon,’ she whispers, her voice sending shivers down my spine. ‘We have to be quiet. My parents will kill me if they catch us.’

I pull her close, drinking in her scent. It’s intoxicating, clouding my mind with desire. ‘Then we’ll just have to be very, very quiet,’ I murmur against her ear, delighting in the way she trembles against me.

We sneak into her room. I’ve never been in here before, but then, I’ve never had reason to. We might be engaged, but that’s all been planned out by other people.

Moonlight filters through the curtains, casting dappled shadows across Ophelia’s pale skin as she pulls her shirt over her head. For the first time, my thoughts are on anything other than the future that’s starting to feel like walls closing in around me.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her since I got back from my college break. She’s no longer the insecure girl who used to follow her brother and our friends around like a lost puppy. She would already be at university, if the Thompsons believed in that sort of thing for omegas. But the one thing we have in common is that both our lives have been planned out for us from the start.

By other people. People who resent the fact that they didn’t get to choose their own paths, and now, instead of breaking the cycle, it’s their turn to play warden with their children’s futures.

If I’m being honest with myself, the fact that Ophelia has always been a part of that carefully orchestrated future is probably the only reason we haven’t ended up here before. The only reason I found myself avoiding her the last time I was home on break.

Because while the idea of taking over as CEO of my family’s company one day has always felt like a collar around my neck, and the idea of living their idea of the perfect life is the chain attached to it, Ophelia…

She’s the one part of it all that I could have dreamt up for myself. The only part I wish I could cut out of this stiflingly perfect reality and paste into something real. A life where we could both be free.

And that’s what makes her dangerous. Because I know that no matter what I dream, the reality is that Ophelia belongs in this world. She belongs to it, just like I do. And there is no world where I can have her without accepting the rest of it.

The corporate job. The black-tie affairs. The death of all my hopes and dreams and aspirations that don’t revolve around my family’s iron control.

If there’s any temptation that could lure me back to the straight and narrow path my parents have planned for me, it isn’t the trust fund or the house in the Hamptons.

It’s her.

My breath catches in my throat. I’ve known Ophelia my whole life, but I’ve never seen her like this. She’s always been beautiful, but now, with her dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders and her blue eyes dark with desire, she’s breathtaking.

The memory fades as quickly as it came, leaving me disoriented. My fists connect with empty air, and I stumble, nearly losing my balance.

‘Whoa there, champ,’ Tony says, steadying me with a firm grip on my shoulder. ‘You okay?’This content © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

I blink, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the flashback. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just… lost in thought.’

Tony eyes me skeptically. ‘Uh-huh. Well, those thoughts are gonna get you knocked out if you don’t start paying attention. Hit the showers, Leon. We’re closing up.’

‘I thought I earned some special treatment when I bought the deed to this place out from under that asshole who was trying to shut you down a few years ago,’ I say dryly, shucking off my gloves.

‘You did. That’s why I’m tellin’ ya to get out and not throwin’ ya out on your ear,’ he quips.

I can’t help but chuckle, too drained to argue. As I unwrap my hands, my phone buzzes in my gym bag. Probably Maddox, checking in again. He’s been doing that a lot lately, ever since…

I freeze, staring at the screen. It is Rhys, but it’s not a text. He’s calling.

My heart rate, already elevated from the workout, kicks into overdrive. Rhys has been as distant as the rest of the pack, aside from Mads. And I can’t blame him. He’s my bondmate and I’ve been lying to him all this time. He has more reason to hate me than anyone other than Ophelia.

I answer, my voice rough. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

‘Leon,’ Rhys says, his tone carefully neutral. ‘You got a minute?’

‘Yeah, of course.’ I grab my bag and head for the exit, nodding a quick goodbye to Tony. ‘Everything okay?’

There’s a pause, and I can picture Rhys on the other end, choosing his words carefully. ‘Ophelia’s agreed to talk to you.’

The world tilts on its axis. I lean against the gym’s exterior wall, my legs suddenly weak. ‘She… what?’

‘She’s willing to meet with you,’ Rhys repeats. ‘But she has a condition.’

Of course she does. I close my eyes, bracing myself. ‘What is it?’

‘She wants me there too. The three of us, together.’

The words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. I knew it was coming, but it still knocks the wind out of me. ‘Okay.’

‘I know it’s not ideal,’ Rhys says quickly. ‘But it’s honestly a surprise she’s willing to talk to you at all.’

‘Yeah,’ I manage. ‘No, you’re right. It’s… it’s good. When does she want to meet?’

‘Tomorrow evening, if you’re free. At the house.’

Our house. The one I haven’t set foot in since this whole mess started. The one where Ophelia’s been living, healing, bonding with the rest of the pack while I’ve been… what? Hiding? Running? Both?

‘I’ll be there,’ I say, because what else can I say?

‘Good,’ Rhys replies, and I can hear the relief in his voice. ‘Leon, this is your chance. Don’t⁠—’

‘Blow it?’ I finish for him, a bitter laugh escaping me. ‘Yeah, I know. Trust me, I know.’

There’s an awkward silence, and then Rhys sighs. ‘Just… be honest with her, okay? That’s all any of us wants.’

The call ends, and I’m left staring at my phone, feeling like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. One wrong move and I’ll fall, shattering everything I’ve built, everything I care about.

But maybe I deserve to fall.

I make my way home in a daze, barely registering the familiar streets and buildings. My apartment feels cold and empty when I walk in, a stark contrast to the warmth and life I know fills the pack house.

As I strip off my sweaty clothes and step into the shower, I try to prepare myself for tomorrow. What will I say to her? How can I possibly explain or justify what I did?

The hot water beats down on my shoulders, but it does nothing to ease the tension coiled in my muscles. I close my eyes, letting my forehead rest against the cool tile.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, practicing the words I know I’ll need to say. ‘I was young and scared and stupid. I didn’t understand what I was throwing away.’

But the words sound hollow, even to my own ears. They’re true, but they’re not enough. Not nearly enough to make up for the pain I caused, the years I stole from her.

I step out of the shower and catch sight of myself in the mirror. The man staring back at me looks tired, haunted. Is this what Ophelia will see tomorrow? A broken, regretful alpha who couldn’t handle the responsibility of a mate?

No. I can’t let that happen. I may not deserve her forgiveness, but I owe it to her to at least show her that I’ve changed. That I’m not that selfish kid anymore.

I have to do this right.