Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

The clinking of silverware against plates grates on my nerves as I sit at the head of the table, jaw clenched. Maddox and Mace exchange glances, their scents sour with unease. I stab at my steak, imagining it’s Troy’s smug face.

‘What’s his problem?’ Maddox mumbles to Mace, not quite under his breath.

Mace leans in, his voice a low rumble. ‘He walked in on Troy knotting Ophelia. He’s throwing a fit.’

‘I’m not throwing a fit,’ I snap, slamming my glass down. The table rattles, and both of them jump.

Maddox raises an eyebrow. ‘You need to play it cool, man. You of all people have no right to be jealous.’

‘I know that,’ I growl, running a hand through my hair. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that I am.’

The front door opens, and Rhys’s honey-sandalwood scent wafts in. He strolls into the dining room, a smile on his face. ‘Hey, guys. Where are Ophelia and Troy?’

Maddox smirks, swirling his wine glass. ‘Probably still locked together.’

I shoot him a glare, but he just shrugs and takes a sip.

‘Ah,’ Rhys says, understanding dawning in his eyes. He pauses briefly in front of my seat before going over to his. ‘Glad you came, Leon.’

The words, as simple as they are, send a wave of relief through me. Things have been so tense between us lately, I’d started to wonder if our friendship was beyond repair.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs announce Troy’s arrival. He swaggers into the room, smelling of Ophelia and sex. My stomach churns.

‘Well, well,’ Maddox drawls. ‘Look what the cat dragged in.’

Mace chuckles. ‘Have fun up there, champ?’

Troy grins, dropping into his chair. ‘What can I say? Rhys was right. Having an omega around full-time is just what we needed.’

I drain my glass of whiskey in one gulp, wishing it would dull the ache in my chest.

Finally, Ophelia appears. Her damp hair falls in waves around her face, and she’s wearing a T-shirt that hugs her full breasts and jeans that cling to every curve. She clearly just showered, but it’s not enough to fully erase Troy’s scent from her. My mouth goes dry. She’s even more beautiful than she was when we were younger, more self-assured. She knows who she is now.

Mace beams at her. ‘Just in time, sweetheart.’ He walks over, placing the last few steaming dishes on the table before pulling her in for a kiss.

Another stab of jealousy pierces me, but I push it down. I’m glad to see my pack embracing her. I am. I have to be.

Ophelia takes her seat across from me, and I can’t help but stare. Her scent fills my nostrils. It’s stronger now than years ago, thanks to her half-formed mark. My mark. The one I never finished. The one that’s haunted me every day since, a guilty stain on my soul even if it’s only visible on her skin.

‘Leon?’ Rhys’s voice snaps me out of my trance. ‘You okay?’

I clear my throat. ‘Fine. Just… hungry.’

Ophelia’s eyes meet mine for a split second before darting away.

‘So,’ Maddox says, breaking the awkward silence. ‘How was everyone’s day?’

Troy launches into a story about his latest gig, and I tune him out, focusing on my food. I can feel Ophelia’s gaze on me, but I don’t dare look up.

‘What about you, Leon?’ Rhys asks. ‘How was training?’

I shrug. ‘Same old. Sparring, weights, cardio.’

‘Any new opponents lined up after the next big fight?’ Mace leans forward, always eager to talk shop.

‘Maybe. My agent’s working on it.’

Maddox snorts. ‘Let’s just see if you survive Jace.’

‘Your confidence is inspiring,’ I say dryly.

‘What’s the big fight?’ Ophelia asks, to my shock. I’m honestly surprised she’s even acknowledging my existence.

My gaze flicks to Ophelia, heart skipping a beat. She’s looking at me expectantly, those blue eyes piercing right through me. I clear my throat, forcing myself to focus.

‘Jace is this British fighter I’ve been gunning for since I went pro,’ I explain, stabbing at a piece of broccoli. ‘He’s got a mean right hook and stamina for days. Been dodging me for years, but we’re finally gonna throw down next month.’

Maddox snorts into his wine. ‘Yeah, and he’s the only guy with more world titles than our boy here. Gonna be one hell of a fight.’

‘You’ve got this,’ Rhys says, his tone not quite as distant as it’s been. Mace was right. Showing up is what the pack needed, even if staying away would be easier. ‘You’ve been training harder than ever.’

Ophelia’s brow furrows slightly. ‘I don’t really follow sports,’ she admits, her voice soft. ‘Especially not the bloody ones. But…’ She pauses, and I find myself holding my breath. ‘You were always good at boxing. I’m not surprised you’ve done well in MMA.’

For a moment, I’m stunned into silence. It’s the most she’s said to me since she arrived, and there’s no venom in her words. Just a simple statement of fact. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry.

‘Thank you,’ I manage to croak out.

Rhys, ever the peacemaker, jumps in. ‘What about you, Ophelia? What kind of things are you interested in? Do you have any hobbies?’

She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable. ‘Not really,’ she murmurs. ‘Work kept me… busy.’

The air in the room grows thick with tension. I clench my jaw, fighting back a wave of guilt and anger. The others’ scents sour with protectiveness. We all know what kind of work she’s talking about. The things she had to do.

Because of me.

Mace leans forward, his gruff voice gentler than usual. ‘You don’t need to worry about any of that now, sweetheart. You can focus on doing whatever you want. We’ll support you, just like we support each other.’

Ophelia’s cheeks flush pink. ‘I… I don’t really know,’ she stammers. ‘I’m not good at anything.’

‘That’s not true.’ The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Five pairs of eyes swivel to me, and I fight the urge to squirm in my seat. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

‘You were always good at art,’ I continue, my voice steadier than I feel. ‘Sculpting, particularly.’

Maddox’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Really? Is that true?’

Ophelia’s blush deepens. ‘I wasn’t any good at it,’ she mumbles, staring down at her plate.

‘That’s bullshit,’ I say, more forcefully than I intend. She looks up, startled. ‘You won that competition at school, remember? For your sculpture of a swan.’

Her eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. ‘You… remember that?’

I nod, my chest tight. Of course I remember. I remember everything about her.

Rhys’s face lights up. ‘That settles it, then. We’ll have to get you some supplies and set up a space for you if you want to try it again.’

‘I…’ Ophelia hesitates, glancing around the table. Her gaze lingers on me for a moment before she gives a small nod. ‘I wouldn’t mind trying again, now that I have time.’

A tentative smile curves her lips, and for a split second, it’s directed at me. My heart soars, even as my gut twists with shame. I can’t make up for what I did to her. But I finally have an idea of where to start.

‘Great!’ Maddox claps his hands together. ‘We can clear out that spare room upstairs. It’s got great natural light.’

As the others chime in with ideas, I lean back in my chair, lost in thought. I know a gallery owner in the city, an omega who specializes in showcasing up-and-coming artists. If I can convince Ophelia to let me see some of her work, maybe I can set up a meeting. It’s not much, but it’s something. A way to show her I believe in her talent, that I want to support her dreams.

‘Earth to Leon,’ Troy’s voice cuts through my thoughts. ‘You gonna finish that steak, or should I take it off your hands?’

I blink, realizing I’ve been pushing the same piece of meat around my plate for the last five minutes. ‘Touch my food and lose a finger,’ I growl, but there’s no real heat behind it.

Troy grins, reaching for my plate anyway. I swat his hand away, and he laughs.

‘There he is,’ Mace rumbles. ‘Thought we’d lost you for a minute there, champ.’

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips.

The conversation flows more easily after that. Maddox regales us with stories from his latest business trip, while Rhys talks about a challenging case at the hospital. Through it all, I find my gaze drawn to Ophelia again and again. She’s quieter than the rest of us, but I can see her relaxing bit by bit as the meal goes on.

This is my pack. My family. And now, against all odds, Ophelia’s a part of it too.