《Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)》


 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 1

    Another drunk alpha staggers toward me, his gaze fixed on my chest. The stench of cheap bourbon and stale cigarettes makes my nose wrinkle. His pupils dte as he catches my scent, even through the pheromone inhibitors pumping through the vents.


    ¡®How much?¡¯ His words slur together.


    I turn away, letting my hair fall like a curtain between us. ¡®More than you can afford.¡¯


    The rejection rolls off my tongue with practiced ease. Five years of working at Scent Bar has taught me which clients are worth my time. This one isn¡¯t.


    My eyes scan the dimly lit room, cataloging potential marks. Three politicians huddle in the VIP corner, their expensive suits and carefully maintained appearances screaming ¡®discretion required.¡¯ A cluster of mafia alphas dominate the center tables, their scents aggressive even through the dampeners.


    A beta at the bar keeps ncing my way, his shoulders tense with false bravado. He¡¯ll spend the whole night trying to prove he belongs here, dropping cash he can¡¯t afford to spend.


    ¡®Rough crowd tonight.¡¯ Natalie slides up beside me, her red hair catching the low light. ¡®Nothing but cheapskates and creeps.¡¯


    ¡®When isn¡¯t it?¡¯ I adjust my high cor, making sure the half-formed mark on the right side of my neck stays hidden. One look at that mark, and they know another alpha has already discarded me like yesterday¡¯s trash.


    ¡®You¡¯re extra cynical today.¡¯ Natalie bumps my shoulder. ¡®Heating up?¡¯? 2024 N?v/el/Dram/a.Org.


    The question hits like a punch to the gut. My fingers curl around my ss, knuckles whitening. The iplete mark makes everything worse, my body crying out for someone who abandoned me years ago. ¡®You know I don¡¯t go into heat.¡¯


    She cocks her head in confusion. ¡®I thought your doctor said you can¡¯t take those suppressants anymore. It¡¯s been, what, seven years?¡¯


    ¡®About that,¡¯ I mumble into my drink. What¡¯s another month?


    If there¡¯s one benefit to working in this ce, it¡¯s that at least I don¡¯t have to worry about some random alpha throwing me into heat even through the drugs.


    The air is thick with pheromone inhibitors, a necessary evil in a ce like this. Can¡¯t have any idental bondings, after all.


    That would be bad for business.


    Natalie¡¯s expression quickly turns serious. ¡®This is serious, Ophelia. You need to go into heat at least once every quarter or you could get really sick.¡¯


    I avoid her gaze, focusing instead on a particrly desperate-looking alpha across the room. The thought of being with another alpha during that vulnerable time, when all I can think about is Leon Whitaker even now, all these yearster¡­ it¡¯s unbearable.


    ¡®I¡¯m fine, Nat,¡¯ I insist, stering on a fake smile. ¡®Don¡¯t worry about me.¡¯


    But Natalie, bless her naive heart, isn¡¯t letting it go. She rummages in her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. ¡®I heard about something that might help,¡¯ she says, smoothing out the paper and handing it to me.


    I look down at the glossy brochure, my eyebrows shooting up as I read the title. ¡®Temporary Bonds? What the hell is this?¡¯


    Natalie leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡®It¡¯s this new agency that matches unmated omegas withpatible alphas or packs for short-term arrangements. You know, to help with heats and stuff.¡¯


    I scoff, sliding the brochure back at her. ¡®And how exactly is that different from what we do here?¡¯


    ¡®No, no, it¡¯s not like that,¡¯ she says, holding up her hand. ¡®It¡¯s all above board, very professional. My cousin tried it. You know, the one with the difficult heats who hasn¡¯t found a pack yet? She says it¡¯s great. Noints at all.¡¯


    I roll my eyes. ¡®Please. I have my pick of alphas right here if I want them. And they pay me for the privilege.¡¯


    As if on cue, a well-dressed alpha approaches us, his eyes locked on me. He¡¯s handsome in that generic, alpha way¡ªstrong jaw, broad shoulders, an air of confidence bordering on arrogance.


    ¡®Can I buy youdies a drink?¡¯ he asks, his voice a low rumble that I¡¯m sure is meant to be enticing.


    I paste on my most alluring smile, ignoring the way my stomach turns. ¡®Why, that¡¯s very kind of you,¡¯ I purr, leaning in slightly.


    Natalie smirks, catching my eye. ¡®I¡¯ll leave you two to get acquainted,¡¯ she says, slipping away with a wink.


    I turn my full attention to the alpha, letting my eyes roam over him appreciatively. ¡®Or we could skip the drinks and head upstairs,¡¯ I suggest, my voice husky with false desire.


    His eyes light up, and I have to suppress a shudder of revulsion. As I lead him toward the stairs, I can¡¯t help but think that I hate him. I hate every alpha in this room. But I don¡¯t hate any alpha more than I hate Leon Whitaker.


    And yet I hate myself even more.


    For ever loving him.


    For ever hoping he¡¯de back.


    The alpha¡¯s hand on my lower back brings me back to the present. I ster on another smile, pushing thoughts of my ex to the back of my mind.


    It¡¯s time to work.


    As we climb the stairs, I can¡¯t help but wonder how I ended up here. It seems like yesterday I was just a naive omega, dreaming of true love and happily ever afters. Now look at me. Selling myself to the highest bidder every night, hating every moment of it.


    We reach the top of the stairs, and I lead him down the hallway to one of the private rooms. The decor is tasteful but impersonal, all neutral tones and soft lighting designed to tter and seduce. I¡¯ve been in this room countless times, with countless alphas. Each time, I leave a little piece of myself behind.


    ¡®Make yourselffortable,¡¯ I say, gesturing to the plush bed. The alpha grins, already loosening his tie. I turn away, ostensibly to pour us both a drink, but really to steel myself for what¡¯s toe.


    As I face the mini-bar, my eyesnd on my reflection in the mirror. For a moment, I hardly recognize myself. All I see now is a jaded woman, her blue eyes dulled by disappointment and heartbreak.


    Then again, I¡¯m not that eighteen-year-old idiot who actually thought alphas were capable of love. Seven long years have been more than enough to chip that naivet¨¦ away, piece by piece. My hair is longer now, still the same raven shade, cascading over pale shoulders. But even though the face it frames is still smooth and youthful on the surface, the joy in my expression is long gone. Hell, I¡¯m probably never going to age because I can¡¯t even remember thest time I cracked a smile.


    I shake off the mncholy thoughts. I have a job to do.


    Turning back to the alpha, I put on my best seductive smile. ¡®Now,¡¯ I purr, sauntering toward him. ¡®Where were we?¡¯


    The next hour passes in a blur of fake moans and practiced touches. I go through the motions, my body responding on autopilot while my mind drifts far away.


    I think about Natalie¡¯s cousin, wonder if she really found relief through that Temporary Bonds ce. I think about my own impending heat the moment I follow my doctor¡¯s orders and finallye off these suppressants, the pain and loneliness that await me.


    Sometimes I think about Leon.


    Sometimes I imagine biting his dick off.


    Depends on my mood, really.


    When it¡¯s over, the alpha leaves with a satisfied smile and a generous tip. I wait until the door closes behind him before I let my facade crumble. I rush to the en-suite bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I retch, my body rejecting the encounter as thoroughly as my mind.


    As I rinse my mouth out, I catch sight of myself in the mirror again. This time, I can¡¯t look away. I stare at my reflection, at the woman I¡¯ve be, and I feel a surge of self-loathing so strong it nearly knocks me off my feet.


    Is this really all I¡¯m worth?


    A quick fuck for alphas who can¡¯t be bothered to find their true mates?


    God, it¡¯s so easy for them. Just fuck your way through the sea of willing omegas who will open their legs for a chance at finding happily ever after and stop when you find the one who smells like heaven.


    Or don¡¯t.


    As rare as omegas are, I¡¯ve learned firsthand working at this ce that doesn¡¯t stop alphas from risking everything to sample all the variety the world has to offer.


    I shake my head, trying to dispel the traitorous thoughts. This is my life now. I made my choices, and I have to live with them.


    But as I make my way back downstairs, Natalie¡¯s words echo in my mind. Maybe there¡¯s another way. Maybe I don¡¯t have to suffer through my heats alone.


    Or with clients who make my skin crawl.


    The alphas at this Temporary Bonds ce certainly can¡¯t be any more repulsive than the ones I go upstairs with every night.


    I find Natalie at the bar, chatting with one of the regrs. She spots me and excuses herself, hurrying over with concern written all over her face.


    ¡®Effy? Are you okay? You look pale.¡¯


    I force a smile. ¡®I¡¯m fine, Nat. Just¡­ tired, I guess.¡¯


    She doesn¡¯t look convinced, but she doesn¡¯t push. Instead, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out the Temporary Bonds brochure again. ¡®Here,¡¯ she says, pressing it into my hand. ¡®Just¡­ think about it, okay? You don¡¯t have to decide anything now.¡¯


    I nod, too exhausted to argue. I slip the brochure into my purse, telling myself I¡¯ll throw it awayter.


    But even as I think it, I know I won¡¯t.


    The rest of the night passes in a haze of drinks and false smiles. By the timest call rolls around, I¡¯m more than ready to go home. I say goodbye to Natalie, promising to text her when I get home safe.


    The cool night air is a relief after the stuffy atmosphere of the bar. I walk briskly, my heels clicking against the pavement, eager to put as much distance between myself and the Scent Bar as possible.


    At home, I go through my nightly routine on autopilot. Shower, moisturize, brush teeth. But as I¡¯m about to climb into bed, my eyesnd on my purse. Before I can talk myself out of it, I dig out the Temporary Bonds brochure.


    I sit on the edge of my bed, turning the glossy paper over in my hands. It¡¯s everything Natalie said it was and more.


    It¡¯s a nice, modern looking building in a trendy area downtown where some tech geniuses have figured out an algorithm to match unmated omegas with packs for temporary arrangements.


    No strings attached.


    But all the packs are carefully vetted for safety, and supposedly, the algorithm and the forms you fill out ensure a high rate ofpatibility. Omegas always haveplete discretion when ites to epting a pack or not. And the first meeting is always held at the Temporary Bonds office, so there¡¯s no pressure or safety concerns.


    The promises it makes seem too good to be true.


    Safe, professional, discreet.


    A way to get through my heats without the pain and loneliness I¡¯ve grown ustomed to.


    But can I really trust it?


    Can I trust anyone after what Leon did to me, even on a temporary basis?


    I think about my uing heat, about the agony that awaits me if I face it alone. And the potential risks if I keep taking these suppressants.


    With a sigh, I reach for my phone. And then I change my mind.


    There¡¯s no way this is legit. If life has taught me one thing, it¡¯s that if something seems too good to be true, it always is.


    Especially when ites to alphas.

 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 2

    Bam.


    Bam.


    Bam.


    My fists m into the punching bag, each impact registering on the digital disy. The numbers sh, mocking me.


    Not good enough.


    Never good enough.


    I grit my teeth, muscles burning as I push harder. Sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes. The bag swings wildly, but I don¡¯t let up. Can¡¯t let up. There¡¯s a fighting, and I need to be ready.


    But my head¡¯s not in it.


    Hasn¡¯t been for weeks.


    ¡®You¡¯re distracted.¡¯


    Mace¡¯s gruff voice cuts through the rhythmic thuds. I don¡¯t stop punching, but I feel his eyes on me, assessing.


    ¡®I¡¯m fine,¡¯ I grunt,nding another solid hit. The force meter spikes, but it¡¯s still not my best.


    ¡®Bullshit.¡¯ Mace steps closer, his bulk blocking out the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. He¡¯s as tall as I am at six-foot-five, but even though he was also an MMA fighter before a knee injury ended his career as a fighter and segued into coaching, all those years of muscle have been buried under a thickyer of instion. Everything but his broad, muscr arms that could probably snap a literal tree in half. ¡®You¡¯ve been off your game for days. What¡¯s going on?¡¯


    I wipe a few strands of sweat drenched bone white hair out of my eyes and I throw onest punch, harder than the others. The bag swings back, nearly smacking me in the face. I catch it, chest heaving.


    ¡®It¡¯s nothing.¡¯


    Mace crosses his arms over his padded middle, unimpressed. ¡®Try again.¡¯


    I sigh, grabbing a towel to wipe my face. ¡®Rhys has been talking about getting an omega again.¡¯


    ¡®And that¡¯s bad because¡­?¡¯


    My jaw clenches. I can¡¯t tell him.


    I¡¯ve never told another soul about Ophelia.


    About what I did.


    Not unless you count the endless string of private detectives I¡¯ve hired in a vain attempt to track her down.


    Not even my own pack.


    No, especially not them. Not Mace, the trainer who¡¯s been with me since long before my new name on a billboard was enough to draw thousands of eager observers to my fights. Not even Rhys, my bond brother.


    How could I tell any of them the truth?


    It¡¯s been so long. Back then, it was out of cowardice and shame, but now¡­


    Now, I wouldn¡¯t even know where to begin.


    ¡®It¡¯s a girl, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ he mutters in a knowing tone.


    I freeze, staring up at the burly alpha. I¡¯m not surprised he¡¯s sussed out that much. He knows me better than anyone, except Rhys. But I am surprised he¡¯sing right out and asking. Talking really isn¡¯t our thing. At least, not about sensitive subjects. Definitely not sensitive subjects that involve feelings.


    I could lie to him. Could deny it. But for one thing, he¡¯d see right through it. He knows me too well. And for another, it feels like another wave of betrayal. Another disservice to the woman I owe everything and left with nothing.


    But that¡¯s exactly what I was back then.


    Nothing.


    Nothing but an arrogant trust fund brat with big dreams and an even more oundish ego, trying to make it out of his family¡¯s illustrious shadow.


    Seven years and I¡¯ve done a hell of a lot more than that. I¡¯ve sold out arenas around the world and graced the covers of every MMA and sports magazine that¡¯s worth putting on a shelf, but what the fuck does any of it matter without her?


    It¡¯s as if the sins of my past are a ck hole, sucking in every aplishment and possession I¡¯ve acquired since, rendering it all meaningless. Everything except a pack that would rightfully hate me¡ªand probably cast me out¡ªif they knew the truth.


    ¡®Yeah,¡¯ I say quietly. ¡®It is.¡¯


    ¡®You wanna talk about it?¡¯ he offers, clearly as ufortable with the whole feelings thing as I am. But the fact that he¡¯s even willing to go there is proof enough that I haven¡¯t been acting myself. At least, not the version I let him and the rest of the world see.


    ¡®Not really,¡¯ I admit. It¡¯s not that there¡¯s nothing to say. It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t know how to bridge the gap between the version of me he knows and the one who did¡­ that.


    I¡¯ve managed to get through most of my adult life by pretending the one never existed.


    ¡®Well, something¡¯s gotta change,¡¯ he says gruffly, leaning on the ropes. ¡®It¡¯s clear it¡¯s been eating at you.¡¯


    I guess I haven¡¯t been doing as good of a job hiding it as I expected. You¡¯d think some things would get easier after the better part of a decade, but lies don¡¯t strengthen with age. They turn brittle. And my cracks are starting to show.


    Especially this close to the anniversary of the day I left.


    ¡®There¡¯s not much to say,¡¯ I answer with a shrug. What¡¯s one more bald faced lie in the scheme of things? ¡®I fucked it up about as badly as an alpha can fuck anything up.¡¯


    He considers that in silence. ¡®Did you ever try to find her? Make it right?¡¯


    I let out a bitterugh. ¡®What do you think? Of course I did. But it¡¯s like she vanished into thin air. None of her family would tell me where she went or even return my phone calls. Can¡¯t say I me them, either.¡¯


    The memoriese flooding back, unbidden. Ophelia¡¯s smile, bright as sunshine. The way her blue eyes sparkled when sheughed. The softness of her skin under my fingertips.


    And then¡­ the mark.


    My teeth sinking into her flesh, iming her as mine. The intoxicating rush of her scent, the way she cried out my name.


    I left her the next morning. Walked away without a word, like a goddamn coward.


    ¡®I fucked up, Mace,¡¯ I whisper, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. ¡®I fucked up so bad.¡¯


    Mace doesn¡¯t say anything. He doesn¡¯t need to. I know there¡¯s nothing that can make this right. Not unless I somehow manage to find her after all these years.


    But even if I do, I¡¯m a part of a pack now. A bonded pack. She wouldn¡¯t just have to ept me, but them, too. And somehow, I doubt she would. It isn¡¯t like I expected it to happen, it just¡­ did.


    First came Rhys. He was just a med student then, working as a medic at one of the underground fight clubs I frequented in the early days of my career, back when I was still trying to moonlight as the eldest son of an esteemed family.


    We felt it immediately.


    That bond that runs deeper than pack.


    It¡¯s¡­ brotherhood.


    For some alphas, it¡¯s more than that, but for me and Rhys, it¡¯s like being tonic soulmates. The romantic feelings aren¡¯t there, since we¡¯re both exclusively attracted to women, but that doesn¡¯t make it any less intense of a connection than a mating bond. We wear each other¡¯s mark, we lead the pack together, we share a home and a life. Hell, I even decided we should share hisst name when my family turned their backs on me. Felt like I might as well start over, considering I was a new person anyway. Physical intimacy is the one thing we¡¯ve never shared.


    That and an omega.


    But that¡¯s on my ount, not his. And after seven years, I¡¯m running out of excuses. Running out of ways to avoid telling him that I can¡¯t¡ªwon¡¯t¡ªlet myself go there with anyone else.


    Mace joined us not long after Rhys and I found each other. And even though he and I definitely didn¡¯t share the same deep bond of brotherhood Rhys and I felt from the moment we met, he quickly became one of my best friends. We were about as physically different as two people could be, me with a lean, muscr build, tan skin, and shock white hair, and him with his big teddy bear build, chestnut hair and blue eyes, but we were pack all the same.


    Then there was Maddox, the easygoing beta who would eventually be my manager, and finally, Troy. He was¡­ something else entirely.


    A lot of somethings, actually, and most of them profane, but every pack needs its ck sheep.


    It was one thing when it was just me, but now I¡¯m part of a unit. The connection between bonded alphas might look different from the bond between an alpha and an omega, but it¡¯s still permanent.


    And even if I did manage to find Ophelia, even if she was willing to ept me and my pack¡­


    What could I really offer her?


    The pack would embrace her, I know that, but she isn¡¯t my scent match. Which means she isn¡¯t our scent match. Not all packs are even lucky enough to have one, as rare as omegas are, but what if we do? What if Rhys goes out to work one day or to the store and catches a whiff of the omega we were all destined to share? I¡¯m going to have toe clean and tell them I have no intention of iming the new one. Or any omega other than the one I betrayed and abandoned in the worst possible way.


    But would she ever believe that?


    And the others¡­ would they be willing to make the same sacrifice for a woman they¡¯ve never even met?


    A woman they don¡¯t even know exists.


    I turn back to the punching bag, desperate to lose myself in the burn of exertion. But with every hit, I see her face in the back of my mind, staring me down in well deserved judgment. With every impact, I hear her voice.


    ¡®What am I supposed to do?¡¯ I mutter, not really expecting an answer. ¡®Rhys wants an omega. The pack needs an omega. But how can I¡­¡¯


    The words trail off.


    How can I bring another omega into our lives when I¡¯m still haunted by the one I left behind?


    Mace sighs heavily. ¡®I don¡¯t know what happened, and I¡¯m pretty damn sure you¡¯re not talkin¡¯ anytime soon, but I do know one thing. You can¡¯t keep punishing yourself forever, Leon. What¡¯s done is done.¡¯


    ¡®Easy for you to say,¡¯ I snap, immediately regretting it. ¡®Sorry. I just¡­ I can¡¯t shake this feeling that I need to make it right somehow.¡¯


    ¡®And how exactly do you n on doing that?¡¯ Mace asks, his tone gentle but firm. ¡®You said it yourself, you can¡¯t find her. Maybe it¡¯s time to let go.¡¯


    I shake my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. ¡®I can¡¯t. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. Every time Rhys brings up getting an omega, I think about¡­¡¯ I trail off, knowing I¡¯m at risk of saying too much.


    Mace is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks again, his voice is low and serious. ¡®You were young, Leon. You made a mistake. A big one, yeah, but you can¡¯t change the past. All you can do is learn from it and try to be better.¡¯


    He¡¯s wrong. And if he had any idea the full extent of what I¡¯ve done, that it wasn¡¯t just an ugly breakup born of another immature alpha¡¯s ego, he wouldn¡¯t feel that way. But even now, I can¡¯t bring myself to say it.


    To face that shame.


    The guilt.


    ¡®I just wish I knew she was okay,¡¯ I murmur, more to myself than to Mace. ¡®That she found someone else.¡¯


    The thought is enough to drive me insane, but I¡¯m not quite selfish enough to hope that she¡¯s been celibate this entire time like I have. At the very least, I hope she found someone to break the mark.


    An alpha to give her what I couldn¡¯t.


    Maybe even her scent match.


    Even if the thought ws at my insides like a ravenous beast trying to break out of its cage.


    Mace puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. ¡®You can¡¯t control that. All you can do is focus on the here and now. You¡¯ve got a big fighting up, and a pack that needs you. Don¡¯t let the ghosts of your past hold you back.¡¯


    I nod, taking a deep breath. He¡¯s right about that, at least. I can¡¯t change what happened with Ophelia if I can¡¯t even track her down, but I can try to be the alpha my pack deserves.


    I pause for a moment, studying the burlier alpha. ¡®You think he¡¯s right, don¡¯t you? That we need an omega.¡¯


    Mace snorts, his usual gruff manner on full disy. ¡®I¡¯m an alpha. We need omegas. Betas, too, for that matter. Just in a different way.¡¯


    I can¡¯t help but roll my eyes. ¡®Rhys has gotten to you.¡¯


    He chuckles, a deep rumble that shakes his massive frame. ¡®He¡¯s persuasive, but not as persuasive as mother nature.¡¯ His expression sobers, eyes meeting mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away. ¡®Look, I don¡¯t really get the whole bond brother thing you and Rhys have going on. Never have. But I know enough about rtionships in general that you can¡¯t build them on lies.¡¯


    The words hit me like a punch to the gut, harder than any I¡¯ve thrown at the bag today. My throat tightens, guilt wing its way up from the pit of my stomach.


    ¡®You don¡¯t have to tell me everything right now, but you need to tell the others eventually,¡¯ Mace continues, his voice low and serious. ¡®At least Rhys. He deserves to know the truth. Especially if it¡¯s holding us back from moving forward with this as a pack.¡¯


    I nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat. He¡¯s right. Of course he¡¯s right. I¡¯ve known it for years, but hearing it spoken aloud makes it impossible to ignore.


    ¡®I know,¡¯ I finally manage to croak out.


    Mace nods, seemingly satisfied for now. He ps me on the shoulder, his hand lingering for a moment in a gesture of silent support. Then he turns and lumbers off, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the faint smell of sweat and leather.


    I head for the showers, stripping off my sweat-soaked clothes and stepping under the hot spray. The water pounds against my skin, but it does nothing to wash away the weight of my guilt.


    As I soap up, my mind races.


    How do I even begin to tell Rhys?


    How do I look into those warm brown eyes and admit that I¡¯ve been lying to him since the day we met?


    That I abandoned an omega I¡¯d partially marked?


    The thought of losing him, of losing the pack we¡¯ve built together, makes my chest constrict. But the alternative¡ªcontinuing to live with this secret eating away at me¡ªis unbearable.


    I rinse off and step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. As I wipe the steam from the mirror, I stare at my reflection. The man looking back at me is sessful, respected.


    World champion fighter.


    Pack leader.


    Underneath it all, I¡¯m still that scared kid who ran away from his responsibilities. But it¡¯s time to face the music.


    I can¡¯t keep running forever.


    I dress quickly, my mind made up.


    Tonight. I¡¯ll tell Rhys tonight.


    I head downstairs, my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of my decision sits heavy on my shoulders, but I know it¡¯s time. Rhys deserves the truth, no matter how much it might hurt us both.


    The sound of tires on gravel catches my attention. I nce out the window to see Rhys¡¯s sleek sports car pulling into the driveway of the pack mansion.


    Three stories of modern architecture sprawl across five acres, all clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows. The gym wing alone spans half a football field,plete with a professional-grade octagon and state-of-the-art equipment.


    The main living area flows from room to room in an open concept design that cost more than most people make in a decade. Italian marble floors, custom furniture, and a kitchen that would make a Michelin chef weep. But it¡¯s the little touches that make it home. Troy¡¯s music equipment scattered in the den, Maddox¡¯s industry magazines on every surface, Mace¡¯s protein shake containers perpetually filling the dishwasher, and Rhys¡¯s medical journals stacked neatly on his desk in the study.


    Five bedrooms upy the top floor¡ªone for each of us¡ªplus three guest rooms. And an empty omega suite that Rhys insisted on including when we renovatedst year.


    The one I pretended not to notice as it was being built.


    My gaze drifts to the infinity pool stretching toward the city skyline. Even with all this luxury, something vital is missing.


    Someone.


    Rhys breezes past the entryway, literally running into me in his rush.


    ¡®Whoa there, Doc,¡¯ I say, managing a smile despite my nerves. ¡®Where¡¯s the fire?¡¯


    Rhys looks up at me, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins. His long auburn hair is slightly mussed, like he¡¯s been running his fingers through it all day. ¡®Sorry. I¡¯m a bit scattered today.¡¯


    ¡®Sorry I¡¯mter than usual,¡¯ I say, even though the fact that he¡¯s still in his coat suggests I¡¯m not the only one.


    ¡®Don¡¯t be, I just got in,¡¯ he says, confirming my suspicion as he shrugs off his coat. ¡®One of my patients went into falsebor again. Third time this month.¡¯


    A familiar tension coils in my gut at the reminder of what Rhys does for a living. It¡¯s not just that he¡¯s a doctor. He¡¯s one of the foremost experts in omega care and obstetrics in the country.


    The guilt that¡¯s been gnawing at me all day intensifies. Here I am, about to confess to abandoning a partially marked omega, while my bond mate dedicates his life to caring for them.


    And longs for one to call his own.


    ¡®Everything okay?¡¯ I ask, forcing my voice to remain steady.


    Rhys nods, running a hand through his hair. ¡®Yeah, she¡¯s fine. Just anxious, poor thing. It¡¯s her first baby.¡¯


    I swallow hard, pushing down the lump in my throat. ¡®Listen, Rhys, I was wondering¡­¡¯


    He looks at me expectantly, his eyes so full of trust and affection. It makes what I¡¯m about to do even harder.


    ¡®What¡¯s for dinner?¡¯ he offers before I can continue. ¡®Me, too. I¡¯m starving.¡¯


    I clear my throat. ¡®Actually, Maddox is busy tonight, so he didn¡¯t cook. I was thinking maybe we could go out? Just the two of us? We¡¯ve both been so busytely, it might be nice to catch up.¡¯


    Rhys¡¯s face lights up. ¡®That sounds perfect. Give me a second to change out of these scrubs?¡¯


    I nod, forcing a smile. ¡®Take your time. I¡¯ll be here.¡¯


    As Rhys heads upstairs, I sink onto the couch, my head in my hands. The weight of what I¡¯m about to do threatens to crush me. How do I even begin to exin? How do I tell Rhys I¡¯ve been lying to him since the day we met?


    I think about Ophelia, about the pain I must have caused her. Then I think about Rhys, the pack we¡¯ve formed together.


    I¡¯m about to risk it all.


    But I have to. I can¡¯t keep living with this secret. I can¡¯t keep pretending to be someone I¡¯m not.


    I hear Rhys¡¯s footsteps on the stairs and I stand, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans. This is it. No turning back now.


    As hees into view in a crisp button-down and cks, I steel myself. Whatever happens next, I know one thing for certain: our lives will never be the same after tonight.


    As we step out into the cool evening air, I can¡¯t help but feel a sense of dread settling in my stomach. The weight of my impending confession hangs heavy between us, even as Rhys talks about his day, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.


    We climb into my car, a sleek ck sports car that still smells faintly of new leather. As I start the engine, Rhys falls silent, his expression suddenly pensive.


    ¡®Leon,¡¯ he says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. ¡®There¡¯s actually something I¡¯ve been wanting to talk to you about. To the whole pack, really, but¡­ I think we should discuss it first.¡¯


    My heart skips a beat. ¡®Oh?¡¯ I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. ¡®What is it?¡¯


    Rhys shakes his head, a small smile ying at the corners of his mouth. ¡®Not until dinner. And wine. Definitely wine.¡¯


    I don¡¯t argue. Truth be told, I could use a drink or two myself before dropping my bombshell. ¡®Alright,¡¯ I agree, pulling out of the driveway. ¡®Dinner and wine it is.¡¯


    The drive to the restaurant is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I can¡¯t help but wonder what Rhys wants to talk about. Is it about the omega situation?


    Has he sensed my reluctance?


    Or is it something else entirely?


    We arrive at the restaurant, a cozy pub we¡¯ve been to a thousand times before. As we¡¯re seated at a booth in the back, I can¡¯t help but think this might be thest time he ever looks at me as anything other than a monster.


    We order drinks¡ªa bold red wine for me, a crisp white for Rhys¡ªand some appetizers. As we wait, the tension between us is palpable. We both open our mouths to speak at the same time, then stop,ughing nervously.


    I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. ¡®You first,¡¯ I manage, reaching for my wine ss. ¡®Whatever you have to say, it can¡¯t be worse than what I need to tell you.¡¯


    Rhys raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn¡¯t push. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a glossy brochure. He slides it across the table to me, his fingers lingering on the paper for a moment.


    ¡®I know things have been¡­ tensetely,¡¯ he says softly. ¡®And I know you¡¯re not sure about bringing an omega into the pack. But I think I might have found apromise. Something that could work for all of us.¡¯


    I frown, confused. I pick up the brochure, my eyes widening as I look at the sleek, modern logo on the front. It¡¯s a group of four alphas in silhouette, surrounded by the omega symbol tying them all together. A bit on the nose, but it gets the point across, I guess. ¡®Temporary Bonds?¡¯ I ask, looking up at Rhys. ¡®What is this?¡¯


    Rhys leans forward, his eyes bright with excitement. ¡®It¡¯s a new agency,¡¯ he exins. ¡®They specialize in matching unmated omegas withpatible alphas or packs for short-term arrangements. Mostly to help omegas through difficult heats, but also for alphas who aren¡¯t ready for a permanentmitment.¡¯


    I flip open the brochure, my mind reeling. The inside is filled with glossy photos of smiling omegas and alphas, along with testimonials and descriptions of services. It all looks very professional, very above-board.


    But still¡­


    ¡®I don¡¯t understand,¡¯ I say, looking back up at Rhys. ¡®You want us to¡­ what? Rent an omega?¡¯


    Rhys winces at my choice of words. ¡®That¡¯s not¡­ It¡¯s not like that, Leon. It¡¯s more like a trial period. A chance for us to see what it would be like to have an omega in the pack, without the pressure of a permanent bond.¡¯


    I stare at him, speechless. This is so far from what I was expecting, I don¡¯t even know how to process it. Part of me is relieved. This is easier to deal with than himing home and announcing he finally met our scent match.


    But another part of me is terrified.


    Because if he does this, if he brings an omega into our lives, even temporarily¡­


    The thought makes my head spin. I reach for my wine, taking a long swig to buy myself some time. When I set the ss down, Rhys is watching me intently, his expression a mix of hope and anxiety.


    ¡®Say something,¡¯ he urges. ¡®What do you think?¡¯


    I open my mouth, but no wordse out. How can I possibly exin the storm of emotions raging inside me? How can I tell him that the idea of bringing an omega into our pack¡ªany omega¡ªfills me with dread and guilt?


    Because even now, after all these years, my inner alpha rages against the thought of any omega other than the one we partially imed.


    The words I¡¯ve been rehearsing all day are right there on the tip of my tongue, but now that the moment has arrived, my courage has deserted me. Rhys¡¯s eyes are so full of hope. How can I possibly crush that with my confession?


    ¡®I¡­¡¯ I start, then falter. The weight of my secret feels like it¡¯s crushing me, but I can¡¯t bring myself to let it go. Not now. Not when Rhys looks so happy. ¡®I guess we could give it a shot. If the others are on board,¡¯ I add quickly.


    Maybe that will be my saving grace. Getting this pack to agree on anything will be a multi-year undertaking at best.


    The words still taste like ash in my mouth, but the way Rhys¡¯s face lights up almost makes it worth it.


    Almost.


    ¡®Really?¡¯ he asks, leaning forward. ¡®You¡¯re serious?¡¯


    I nod, forcing a smile. ¡®Yeah. I mean, it¡¯s only temporary, right? Maybe it¡¯ll¡­ get it out of your system.¡¯


    It¡¯s not like he hasn¡¯t been with omegas before. Everyone in the pack is free to see who they like romantically, until we all agree on someone, or until one of us meets our scent match. And sure, I may be hellbent on sabotaging either of those potentialities, but so far, I haven¡¯t had to. The others¡¯ tastes are about as divergent as possible.


    So far, no one¡¯s made the cut.


    As soon as the words leave my mouth, though, I regret them. Rhys¡¯s expression falters for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing his features before he schools them back into a smile.


    ¡®Out of my system?¡¯ he repeats, his voice carefully neutral. ¡®Is that what you think this is?¡¯


    I backpedal quickly. ¡®No, that¡¯s not what I meant. I just¡­ I know how much you want this, Rhys. And I want you to be happy. If this is what it takes, then I¡¯m willing to try.¡¯


    It¡¯s another damn lie. But what else is new?


    Rhys studies me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. ¡®Are you sure, Leon? Because if you¡¯re notfortable with this, we don¡¯t have to do it. I don¡¯t want to pressure you into anything.¡¯


    The concern in his voice makes my chest ache. He¡¯s always so considerate, so caring. It only makes what I¡¯m doing feel worse.


    ¡®I¡¯m sure,¡¯ I lie again. ¡®I think it could be good for the pack. For us. But only if you can all agree on someone. You know I¡¯m not really into casual.¡¯


    At least I know that¡¯ll never fucking happen.


    Rhys¡¯s smile returns, bright and genuine. ¡®Okay,¡¯ he says. ¡®We¡¯ll talk to the others when we get home. See what they think.¡¯


    I nod, relief washing over me. I¡¯ve dodged the bullet, at least for now. But as Rhysunches into an excited discussion about the agency and how it works, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯ve just made a terrible mistake.


    ¡®Oh!¡¯ Rhys says suddenly, cutting himself off mid-sentence. ¡®I almost forgot. You said you had something to tell me earlier. Something worse than this, apparently.¡¯ He grins, clearly thinking I was exaggerating. ¡®What was it?¡¯Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    My stomach drops. I¡¯d hoped he¡¯d forgotten about that in all the excitement.


    I should have known better.


    Rhys never forgets anything.


    ¡®Oh, that,¡¯ I say, trying to sound casual. ¡®It¡¯s nothing, really. Just¡­ my next fight got bumped up. I have to leave a little earlier than expected.¡¯


    Rhys¡¯s face falls slightly. ¡®Oh. How much earlier?¡¯


    I shrug, hating myself for piling lie upon lie. ¡®Just a few days. It¡¯s not a big deal. I¡¯ll still have plenty of time to train.¡¯


    Rhys nods, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes. ¡®Well, we¡¯ll just have to make the most of the time we have, won¡¯t we?¡¯


    I force another smile, ignoring the way my stomach churns with guilt. ¡®Absolutely.¡¯


    As we finish our meal and head home, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯ve just set something in motion that I won¡¯t be able to stop this time. And I can¡¯t stop thinking about the possibility, however remote, that this omega they meet will be more than a temporary distraction.


    What if she smells like Ophelia?


    What if she doesn¡¯t?


    And what happens when the truth finallyes out?


    Because it will.


    Secrets like this always do.


    I nce over at Rhys as we drive. He¡¯s humming softly to himself, clearly still riding the high of our conversation. I want to salvage what¡¯s left of my chance, to confess everything and beg for forgiveness.


    But I don¡¯t.


    I keep my hands on the wheel and my mouth shut, driving us home to a future that suddenly seems more uncertain than ever.

 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 3

    I burrow deeper into my nest of pillows and nkets, inhaling the fading scent of jasmine and sea air. My own scent, barely detectable now thanks to the industrial-strength suppressants I¡¯ve been popping like candy. The makeshift nest is patheticpared to what the average omega would have, but it¡¯s the best I can do in this shoebox apartment.


    A twinge of pain shoots through my lower abdomen, making me curl tighter into myself.


    Shit. Not good.


    I fumble for the bottle of suppressants on my nightstand, shaking out two pills and dry swallowing them. The rmended dose is one, and my rmended dose is zero¡ªat least until I have a normal heat for the first time in years¡ªbut desperate times call for desperate measures.


    I know it¡¯s not healthy. I can practically hear my doctor¡¯s voice in my head, lecturing me about the dangers of overdosing on suppressants.


    But what choice do I have?


    I can¡¯t afford to go into heat.


    Not now.


    Not ever, really, but especially not when rent is due in less than a week and I haven¡¯t been able to work for days because of these stupid pre-heat cramps.


    The thought of entertaining clients makes my skin crawl. Even the memory of that alpha¡¯s hands on me at the Scent Bar sends a shudder of revulsion through my body. But beggars can¡¯t be choosers, and this omega is definitely begging.


    For a break, if nothing else.


    I roll onto my back, staring at the water-stained ceiling. The paint is peeling in one corner, revealing the dingy ster underneath. It¡¯s a perfect metaphor for my life, really. A thin veneer of normalcy barely concealing the mess underneath.


    My gaze drifts to the nightstand, to the drawer where I keep my ¡®toys.¡¯ Maybe if I just¡­


    No. I¡¯ve tried that.


    It doesn¡¯t help.


    Nothing helps except an alpha¡¯s knot.


    And with my scent unlocked, I attract a dangerous amount of attention under normal circumstances, even with the suppressants. If I go into full-blown heat, I¡¯ll be a ma for every creep in a three-mile radius.


    An unlocked scent is just another fun side effect of bonding sickness. A rare one, but no surprise I got it. Most omegas are only a beacon to alphas in heat, but me? I smell like an omega in full bloom twenty-four-seven, three hundred and sixty five days out of the year when I¡¯m not on those damn pills. Mating regrly helps, too, which is one of the reasons I went into this line of work to begin with¡ªthat, and desperation. But an alpha¡¯s knot can only mute the scent for a few days without suppressants, and without them, pregnancy would pretty much be an inevitability.


    That¡¯s thest damn thing I need.


    But there¡¯s something else in that drawer. Something that¡¯s been at the back of my mind since Natalie mentioned it. I hesitate for a moment before reaching over and pulling the drawer open.


    Buried beneath a tangle of charging cables and half-empty bottles of lube is a crumpled brochure. I fish it out, smoothing the glossy paper against my thigh. The logo stares back at me, sleek and professional.


    Temporary Bonds.


    I snort. As if anything involving alphas and omegas could ever be truly temporary. But¡­ what if it could be? What if there was a way to get through my heat without ending up bonded or broke or both?


    I flip open the brochure, skimming over the carefully worded promises. ¡®Discreet.¡¯ ¡®Professional.¡¯ ¡®Safe.¡¯


    Yeah, right. I¡¯ve heard all that before. But as my eyesnd on the phone number at the bottom of the page, I can¡¯t help but wonder.


    Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone and punch in the number. It rings once, twice, three times. I¡¯m about to hang up when a cheerful voice answers.


    ¡®Thank you for calling Temporary Bonds! This is Samantha. How may I assist you today?¡¯


    I freeze, suddenly at a loss for words. What am I supposed to say? Hi, I¡¯m a desperate omega with a busted mating mark and an unlocked scent looking for a quick knot?¡¯


    ¡®Hello?¡¯ Samantha prompts, her voice still irritatingly chipper. ¡®Is anyone there?¡¯


    ¡®Uh, yeah,¡¯ I manage to croak out. ¡®Sorry. I¡¯m, um¡­ I¡¯m calling about your services?¡¯


    ¡®Wonderful!¡¯ Samantha chirps. ¡®Are you interested in bing a client or a staff member?¡¯


    I blink, thrown off by the question. ¡®A¡­ client, I guess? I¡¯m an omega,¡¯ I add, as if that wasn¡¯t blindingly obvious.


    ¡®Excellent! We¡¯re always happy to help omegas in need. Can I ask what specifically you¡¯re looking for? Heat assistance? Scent therapy? Tactile therapy? Or perhaps you¡¯re interested in our short-term arrangement options?¡¯


    My head spins at the barrage of choices. ¡®Heat assistance,¡¯ I blurt out before I can overthink it. ¡®But, um¡­ how much does all this cost? There¡¯s got to be some kind of fee, right?¡¯


    Samantha¡¯sugh tinkles through the phone. ¡®Oh, honey, no! There¡¯s absolutely no charge for omegas. Our alphas and packs pay a membership fee that covers all services.¡¯


    Great. So we¡¯re the product.


    Should¡¯ve known.


    But it¡¯s not like it would be the first time I¡¯ve sold myself out of desperation. Somehow, though, this feels¡­ different. More personal. Mostly because I¡¯m looking for something other than money in return.


    I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the real question. The one that¡¯s been eating away at me since I firstid eyes on that damn brochure. ¡®What about¡­ what about omegas with iplete marks? Do you work with them?¡¯


    There¡¯s a pause on the other end of the line, and my heart sinks. This is it. This is where they tell me I¡¯m damaged goods, not worth their time or effort.


    But then Samantha¡¯s voicees back, warm and reassuring. ¡®Of course! We¡¯ve actually worked with several omegas in simr situations recently. It¡¯s moremon than you might think.¡¯


    I blink, stunned. ¡®Really?¡¯


    ¡®Absolutely,¡¯ Samantha confirms. ¡®You can mention it in the onboarding questionnaire along with your other information when youe in. We¡¯ll make sure we match you with alphas or packs who arefortable dealing with iplete marks.¡¯


    Hope flutters in my chest. It¡¯s a fragile, unfamiliar feeling. But then, I¡¯m not just a normal omega with a broken mark. Something tells me they don¡¯t have any other clients with unlocked scents. ¡®How long does all this take? The questionnaire and everything?¡¯R¨ºAdt??St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only


    ¡®Oh, not long at all! The questionnaire itself only takes about half an hour. You coulde in today if you like. From there, matches happen pretty quickly.¡¯


    I nce at the clock. It¡¯s barely noon. I could be there and back before my next dose of suppressants wears off. And with my heat looming¡­ well, I¡¯m desperate enough to give just about anything a try at this point.


    ¡®Okay,¡¯ I hear myself say. ¡®I¡¯lle in today. What¡¯s the address?¡¯


    Samantha rattles off an address in the business district, not far from where I live. I jot it down on the back of the brochure, my handwriting shaky.


    ¡®Wonderful!¡¯ Samantha chirps. ¡®We¡¯ll see you soon, then. Just ask for me at the front desk when you arrive.¡¯


    I mumble a goodbye and hang up, staring at my phone in disbelief. Did I really just do that? Am I really going to go through with this?


    But as another cramp twists through my abdomen, I know I don¡¯t have much choice. It¡¯s this or¡­


    Well, I don¡¯t want to think about the alternative.


    I haul myself out of my nest, wincing at the ache in my muscles. A quick nce in the mirror confirms what I already knew. I look like hell. Dark circles under my eyes, hair a tangled mess, skin pale and mmy.


    Not exactly the picture of omega allure.


    But it doesn¡¯t matter, right? This isn¡¯t about finding a mate. It¡¯s just about getting through my heat without ending up bonded or broke.


    I can do this.


    I throw on the first clean clothes I can find. A pair of leggings and an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder. It¡¯s not exactly professional, but it¡¯sfortable, and right now, that¡¯s all I care about.


    The walk to the Temporary Bonds office takes longer than it should. Every step sends a jolt of difort through my body, a reminder of why I¡¯m doing this. By the time I reach the sleek ss building, I¡¯m sweating and shaky.


    I pause outside, taking in the modern facade. It¡¯s nothing like the seedy clubs and ruthouses I¡¯m used to. This ce looks¡­ legitimate. Professional. The kind of ce respectable omegas might actuallye to for help.


    Not that I¡¯m respectable.


    Not anymore.


    But maybe they can help me anyway.


    I push through the revolving door, stepping into a lobby that wouldn¡¯t look out of ce in a high-end hotel. Soft lighting, tasteful artwork on the walls,fortable-looking seating areas scattered about. The air is thick with pheromone inhibitors, masking any trace of alpha or omega scents.


    A friendly-looking beta woman sits behind a curved reception desk, her smile bright as she looks up at me. ¡®Wee to Temporary Bonds! How can I help you today?¡¯


    I approach the desk hesitantly, still half-expecting to be thrown out. ¡®Um, I¡¯m here to see Samantha? I called earlier about¡­ about heat assistance.¡¯


    The beta¡¯s smile doesn¡¯t falter. ¡®Of course! Samantha mentioned we might be expecting you. If you¡¯ll just have a seat, she¡¯ll be with you in a moment.¡¯


    I nod, sinking into one of the plush armchairs scattered around the lobby. It¡¯s sofortable, I have to fight the urge to curl up and nest right there. I distract myself by taking in more details of the decor¡ªthe abstract paintings on the walls, the potted nts in every corner, the soft music ying just on the edge of hearing.


    It¡¯s all so¡­ normal.


    Nothing like the ces I usually end up.


    No alphas prowling around, eyeing me like a piece of meat. No omegas dolled up and on disy. Just a calm, professional atmosphere that almost makes me believe this might actually work.


    ¡®Ophelia?¡¯


    I look up to see a smiling woman approaching me. Beta, by her scent¡ªorck thereof. She¡¯s dressed in a crisp zer and pencil skirt, looking every inch the professional.


    ¡®I¡¯m Samantha,¡¯ she says, extending a hand. ¡®We spoke on the phone earlier. It¡¯s lovely to meet you in person.¡¯


    I shake her hand, surprised by the firm grip. ¡®Nice to meet you too,¡¯ I mumble, suddenly feeling very underdressed in my ratty sweater and leggings.


    If Samantha notices, she doesn¡¯tment. ¡®Why don¡¯t youe with me? We¡¯ll get you set up with the questionnaire and then we can discuss your options.¡¯


    I follow her down a hallway lined with doors, each onebeled with a number. We stop at one marked Consultation Room 3, and Samantha ushers me inside.


    The room is small but cozy, with afortable-looking armchair and a sleek tablet mounted on a stand. The walls are a soothing shade of blue, and there¡¯s a small fountain bubbling away in one corner.


    ¡®Make yourselffortable,¡¯ Samantha says, gesturing to the chair. ¡®The questionnaire is pretty straightforward, but if you have any questions, just press the call button and someone will be right in to help you.¡¯


    I nod, sinking into the chair. It¡¯s even morefortable than it looks, and I have to resist the urge to curl up and nap right there.


    ¡®Take your time,¡¯ Samantha adds with a gentle smile. ¡®And remember, there are no wrong answers. We just want to get to know you and your needs so we can find the best possible match.¡¯


    With that, she leaves, closing the door softly behind her. I¡¯m left alone with the tablet, its screen glowing invitingly.


    I take a deep breath and tap the start button. Here goes nothing.


    The questions start off simple enough. Name, age, ss. But as I scroll through, they get more detailed. Medical history, heat cycles, sexual preferences.


    I hesitate over some of them, not sure how to answer. How am I supposed to know what kind of alpha I prefer when I¡¯ve never had a good experience with any of them?


    But I push through, forcing myself to be honest. What¡¯s the point of lying? If this is going to work, they need to know what they¡¯re dealing with.


    When I get to the section about mating status, my finger hovers over the screen. There it is, in ck and white.


    Iplete mark.


    I tap it, then type out a brief exnation in the box provided. No need to go into the whole sordid story. Just the basics¡ªmarked at eighteen, alpha left, neverpleted the bond.


    As I work through the questionnaire, I find myself rxing in spite of myself. The questions are thorough but not invasive, and there¡¯s always an option to skip if something feels too personal.


    By the time I reach the end, I¡¯ve told them more about myself than I¡¯ve told anyone in years.


    Everything but the part about my unlocked scent. But I¡¯ll only be seeing the alphas during my heat anyway. The one time I¡¯m supposed to perfume unprovoked, so it¡¯s not like they¡¯re going to notice.


    The final section asks about my preferences for a pack. I stare at the screen, at a loss.


    What do I even want?


    All alphas are the same in the end.


    They¡¯ll use you and leave you.


    But I guess if I have to choose¡­


    I end up leaving most of it nk. No preferences for age, appearance, hobbies, assets, careers, or pack size. I just know I want more than a single alpha. Better odds that way. The only thing I specify other than wanting a fully fledged pack is that I want a temporary arrangement only.


    No long-termmitments, no attempts at bonding. Just get me through my heat and let me get back to my life.


    As I hit the submit button, a wave of exhaustion washes over me. I slump back in the chair, suddenly aware of how drained I feel. Between the suppressants and the stress, I¡¯m running on fumes.


    There¡¯s a soft knock at the door, and Samantha pokes her head in. ¡®All finished?¡¯ she asks with a smile.


    I nod, hauling myself to my feet. ¡®Yeah, I think so. What happens now?¡¯


    ¡®Now,¡¯ Samantha says, leading me back to the lobby, ¡®we process your application and start looking for potential matches. It usually doesn¡¯t take long on an omega¡¯s side of things¡ªwe¡¯ll be in touch within a day or two with some options for you to consider. You cane in and meet the potential packs and figure things out from there.¡¯


    I nod, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety in my stomach. This is really happening. I¡¯m really doing this.


    ¡®And remember,¡¯ Samantha adds as we reach the front desk, ¡®you¡¯re under no obligation to ept any of the matches we suggest. If none of them feel right, we¡¯ll keep looking until we find someone you¡¯refortable with.¡¯


    I manage a weak smile. ¡®Thanks. I appreciate that.¡¯


    The Scent Bar could learn a thing or two from this ce when ites to their policies on consent.


    As I step back out onto the street, thete afternoon sun warm on my face, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯ve just set something in motion that I won¡¯t be able to stop. But as another cramp twists through my abdomen, I remind myself that I don¡¯t have much choice.


    My doctor¡¯s words at myst visite back to haunt me.


    ¡°It¡¯s not just about the suppressants being dangerous, Ophelia. Although they certainly are. This formtion was never meant to be used for as long as you have without letting yourself go through the rmended annual heat cycle. But if you continue to use them, eventually, your body will develop a resistance. And when that happens, the suppressants won¡¯t be enough to hold your heat back.¡±


    It¡¯s clear my body has decided I¡¯m going into heat, suppressants or no. So it¡¯s this or suffer through an agonizing heat alone.


    And I¡¯m not sure I can survive that.


    I start the long walk home, telling myself not to get my hopes up. Nothing wille of this anyway. No alpha or pack in their right mind would want a damaged omega like me.


    But as I climb the stairs to my apartment, I can¡¯t quite squash the tiny flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe this time will be different.


    I let myself back into my sad little apartment, immediately heading for my nest. As I curl up among the pillows and nkets, I realize I feel¡­ lighter, somehow.


    But I¡¯ve been burned too many times to truly believe things can change for the better. So I push the hope away, burying it deep where it can¡¯t hurt me. No use getting excited over nothing.


    Still, as I drift off to sleep, I can¡¯t help but wonder what kind of alphas might be interested in a broken omega like me. And for the first time in years, I let myself imagine what it might be like to feel safe and cared for during a heat.


    It¡¯s a dangerous thought. But as I slip into dreams, I can¡¯t quite bring myself to push it away.

 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 4

    Leon stands in front of the mirror in the foyer, straightening his tie as he prepares to leave.


    ¡®Are you sure you don¡¯t want us to wait until you¡¯re back?¡¯ I ask, unable to keep the hint of disappointment from my voice.


    Leon shakes his head. ¡®No, there¡¯s no need for that.¡¯


    I sigh. ¡®I just wish you and Maddox coulde with us. It¡¯s just my luck that the agency finally called right as you had to leave for your fight.¡¯


    ¡®I know,¡¯ Leon murmurs. ¡®But Maddox had to fly ahead to prepare, and you know how important this match is.¡¯


    ¡®I know, I know,¡¯ I grumble. ¡®Go kick some ass. We¡¯ll hold down the fort here.¡¯


    Leon chuckles. ¡®Keep these knuckleheads in line. And call me as soon as you¡¯re done at the agency, okay?¡¯


    ¡®I will,¡¯ I promise. ¡®Be careful, alright?¡¯


    I can¡¯t help but worry about him. Even more than I worry about the others. We may not be a couple, but it¡¯s not exactly natural for an alpha to be separated from his pack, let alone one he¡¯s bonded to.


    That and Leon has been even more distanttely. Part of me is afraid it¡¯s the whole omega thing, even if he¡¯s saying he¡¯s fine with it.


    ¡®Aww, saying your tearful goodbyes?¡¯ Troy¡¯s voice cuts through the moment, dripping with mock disgust. ¡®Some of us are trying to keep our breakfast down.¡¯


    I roll my eyes, but can¡¯t helpughing as I turn to see Troy leaning against the doorframe, his signature smirk firmly in ce.


    He¡¯s actually made an attempt to halfway style his short ck hair, but it still falls into those intensely blue eyes of his. I guess it matches his aesthetic as the brooding musician he is, but I¡¯m relieved he toned it down today, wearing a nice ck button down and cks. Even if it¡¯s still monotone.


    I¡¯m starting to think if he even touched colorful fabric, he¡¯d spontaneouslybust, but beggars can¡¯t be choosers.


    ¡®You¡¯re just jealous of our bond,¡¯ I tease.


    ¡®Of you two saps? Not likely,¡¯ Troy scoffs, but there¡¯s no real heat behind his words.


    Leon gives me a light tap on the shoulder before picking up his briefcase. ¡®Alright, I¡¯m off. Try not to burn the ce down while I¡¯m gone.¡¯


    ¡®No promises!¡¯ Troy calls after him as Leon heads out the door.


    As soon as Leon¡¯s car disappears down the driveway, I turn to Troy and Mace, who¡¯s just lumbered into the entryway.


    ¡®Ready to go?¡¯ I ask.


    Mace grunts in affirmation, while Troy just shrugs. ¡®Let¡¯s go meet our new potential baby mama,¡¯ Troy drawls.


    I swat his arm as we head out to my car. ¡®Don¡¯t be crude. This is a big deal for all of us. And this is just a temporary arrangement.¡¯


    I need to remind myself of that more than anyone.


    The drive to Temporary Bonds is filled with Troy trying to get more than a few words out of Mace. I tune them out, my mind racing with possibilities.


    What will our potential omega be like?


    Will she fit in with our pack?


    Will she even like us?


    Before I know it, we¡¯re pulling up to the sleek ss building that houses Temporary Bonds.


    As we enter the lobby, I¡¯m struck again by how professional and weing it feels. Nothing like the seedy clubs or matchmaking services I¡¯ve heard horror stories about from my patients.


    Samantha greets us with a warm smile, her beta scent calm and reassuring. ¡®Wee back, gentlemen. If you¡¯ll follow me, we can get started.¡¯


    As we follow her down a hallway lined with tasteful artwork, she nces back at us. ¡®I noticed you¡¯re missing two members today. Is everything alright?¡¯


    ¡®Everything is fine,¡¯ I assure her quickly. ¡®Leon has a fighting up, and Maddox is his manager. They had to fly out early, but they know about this meeting and they¡¯re willing to ept any omega we agree to.¡¯


    Samantha nods, leading us into a cozy consultation room. ¡®Wonderful. Well, let¡¯s get started, shall we? I have some exciting news for you.¡¯


    We settle into the plush chairs as Samantha takes a seat behind a sleek desk. ¡®When we spoke on the phone, I mentioned we had found a potential match for your pack,¡¯ she begins, her fingers dancing over a tablet. ¡®However, I¡¯m pleased to inform you that we actually have three omegas who came up as matches in our database.¡¯


    I blink in surprise, exchanging nces with Troy and Mace. ¡®Three?¡¯ I repeat. ¡®That¡¯s¡­ unexpected.¡¯


    Samantha nods, her smile apologetic. ¡®We didn¡¯t call earlier because we were waiting on your background checks to clear. There was a minor issue with one of them.¡¯ Her gaze flicks to Mace, who shifts ufortably in his seat. ¡®Something about a skinny dipping incident?¡¯ she adds delicately.


    Mace¡¯s face flushes a deep red as Troy bursts intoughter. ¡®That was years ago,¡¯ Mace grumbles. ¡®I was a dumb college kid.¡¯


    I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. ¡®The charges were dropped, right?¡¯


    Samantha nods quickly. ¡®Oh yes, it¡¯s not an issue. We just have to be thorough, you understand. We can never be too careful about protecting the omegas thate through our doors. Especially since some are from troubled pasts.¡¯


    A pang of concern shoots through me at the thought of omegas being mistreated. ¡°Of course,¡± I say quietly. ¡°Omegas are precious.¡±


    Samantha¡¯s expression softens. ¡®I¡¯m d you understand. Now, let me show you the profiles of your potential matches.¡¯ She hands me a tablet, and I lean in so Troy and Mace can see as well.


    The first two profiles are of beautiful omega women, both with detailed lists of qualifications and preferences. They¡¯re lovely, but I don¡¯t feel any real connection as I skim their information. The one is only neen and the other just turned twenty-one, so I have a hard time imagining either of them fitting in with the pack. That and the idea of dating a woman who¡¯s younger than my little sister makes me uneasy.


    Then we get to the third profile, and my breath catches in my throat.


    Ophelia.


    Even in just a photo, she¡¯s stunning. Long raven hair frames a heart-shaped face, and piercing blue eyes seem to stare right through the screen.


    I¡¯m immediately smitten.


    ¡®Damn,¡¯ Troy mutters beside me. ¡®She¡¯s gorgeous.¡¯


    Mace grunts in agreement, but Troy quickly adds, ¡®Bet she¡¯s high maintenance, though. Probably a real princess.¡¯


    I shoot him a warning look before turning back to the tablet. As I read through Ophelia¡¯s profile, I¡¯m struck by how little she¡¯s specified. Unlike the other omegas, who had long and detailed lists of requirements, Ophelia¡¯s only preference is for a pack.


    ¡®She¡¯s twenty-five,¡¯ I murmur, relieved and curious at once. It¡¯s hard to find an omega who isn¡¯t snapped up by a pack by her early twenties. Especially one that gorgeous. ¡®I wonder why she hasn¡¯t bonded with an alpha yet.¡¯


    As I scroll further, something else on her profile catches my eye. ¡®Special circumstances?¡¯ I look up at Samantha. ¡®What does that mean?¡¯


    Samantha¡¯s expression grows somber. ¡®Ophelia is¡­ well, she¡¯s an omega with a¡­plicated mating mark.¡¯


    I feel the blood drain from my face as Troy and Mace exchange confused looks.


    ¡®Complicated?¡¯ Troy asks, brow furrowed. ¡®What does that mean?¡¯


    Before Samantha can answer, the words tumble from my mouth. It can only be one thing. ¡®It means an alpha started the process of marking her, but didn¡¯t finish it before abandoning her.¡¯ My voice is tight with barely contained anger. ¡®It can lead to a painful, even dangerous condition called bond sickness, until the mark is broken by another alpha.¡¯


    Samantha looks impressed. ¡®You certainly know your stuff, Dr. Thompson.¡¯


    I clear my throat, suddenly self-conscious. ¡®As a physician, I specialize in omega care,¡¯ I exin.


    Samantha¡¯s eyes widen as she nces back at my file. ¡®Oh, that¡¯s right! I didn¡¯t realize¡­ well, how fortunate the omega you choose will be to have such expert care.¡¯


    I mumble a thank you, ignoring Troy¡¯s snicker and muttered ¡®omega expert¡¯ment.


    ¡®So,¡¯ Samantha continues, ¡®would you like us to arrange a meeting with any of the omegas? Or all of them? Or we can wait, if none of them appeal to you.¡¯


    ¡®Ophelia,¡¯ I blurt out before I can stop myself. I feel Troy and Mace staring at me and quickly add, ¡®If you¡¯re both in agreement, of course.¡¯


    Mace nods slowly. ¡®Yeah, she¡¯s definitely the one who piqued my curiosity. I¡¯d like to meet her too.¡¯ He turns to Troy. ¡®What about you, kid?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m not a damn kid,¡¯ Troy mutters. ¡®And I don¡¯t know about this whole iplete mating mark thing. Sounds like drama, and you know how Leon feels about¡ª¡¯ He breaks off, catching my warning re. ¡®Yeah, sure, whatever. Let¡¯s meet the princess.¡¯


    Samantha beams at us. ¡®Wonderful! I¡¯ll arrange it and call to schedule something if Ophelia agrees to meet with you.¡¯


    As we leave the office, my mind is racing. I can¡¯t stop thinking about Ophelia, about the pain she must have endured. An iplete mark is no small thing.


    ¡®You sure about this, doc?¡¯ Troy¡¯s voice breaks through my thoughts as we reach the car. ¡®I mean, a broken mark¡­ that¡¯s some heavy shit. Thought this was supposed to be a trial thing.¡¯


    I whirl on him, suddenly defensive. ¡®A broken mark is an alpha¡¯s shame, not an omega¡¯s,¡¯ I snap. ¡®It means she was betrayed and abandoned, or possibly forced into a mark she didn¡¯t want. She¡¯s the victim here, Troy.¡¯


    Troy holds up his hands, looking chastened. ¡®Whoa, okay. I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know. I just¡­ I worry about Leon, you know? He¡¯s already resistant to the whole idea.¡¯


    I dete, the fight leaving me as quickly as it came. ¡®I know,¡¯ I sigh. ¡®You¡¯re right, it isplicated. But¡­ I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s just something about her. I want to at least meet her.¡¯


    As we climb into the car, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯m already in too deep. I¡¯ve never even met this omega, and yet I feel this overwhelming urge to protect her, to care for her.


    ¡®What if she doesn¡¯t like us?¡¯ Mace¡¯s question breaks the silence as we pull out of the parking lot. ¡®All of us, I mean.¡¯


    I nce at him in the rearview mirror, surprised by the change in his usually gruff demeanor. ¡®Then we keep looking,¡¯ I say. ¡®This is as much about finding the right fit for us as it is for her.¡¯


    Troy snorts from the passenger seat. ¡®Please. We¡¯re a catch. Who wouldn¡¯t want us?¡¯


    I roll my eyes, but I¡¯m grateful for his bravado. It helps ease some of the tension that¡¯s been building since we left Temporary Bonds.


    As we drive home, I can¡¯t help but wonder what Ophelia is like in person. And then there¡¯s the issue of her iplete mark. I¡¯ve treated omegas with simr conditions before, but never in a personal context. The thought of the suffering she must go through during her heats makes my chest ache.


    ¡®Earth to Rhys,¡¯ Troy¡¯s voice cuts through my musings. ¡®You gonna park the car, or should we just camp out in the driveway?¡¯


    I blink, realizing we¡¯ve arrived home. ¡®Sorry,¡¯ I mutter, pulling into the garage.


    As we pile out of the car, Mace clears his throat. ¡®So, uh, when do you think we¡¯ll hear back about meeting her?¡¯


    I shrug, trying to appear nonchnt even as my heart races at the thought. ¡®Probably in a couple of days. These things take time.¡¯


    Troy stretches, his joints popping loudly. ¡®Well, I don¡¯t know about you two, but all this omega talk has me worked up. I¡¯m hitting the gym.¡¯


    As he saunters off toward our home gym, Mace turns to me with a knowing look. ¡®You okay? You seemed pretty invested back there.¡¯


    I sigh, running a hand through my hair. ¡®I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just¡­ the thought of what she must have gone through. An iplete mark is no joke, Mace.¡¯


    I¡¯m not surprised Troy doesn¡¯t understand fully. Most alphas don¡¯t. Iplete marks are rare enough that they didn¡¯t even have a name for bond sickness until recently, or most of theplications that can arise from it.


    He nods solemnly. ¡®I get it. But we don¡¯t even know if she¡¯ll want to meet us. Try not to get too attached, yeah?¡¯


    I force a smile. ¡®You¡¯re right. I¡¯m just overthinking, as usual.¡¯


    Mace chuckles, pping me on the shoulder. ¡®That¡¯s why we love you, doc. Nowe on, I¡¯m starving. Let¡¯s see what Maddox left in the fridge for us.¡¯


    As we head inside, I can¡¯t help but check my phone. No missed calls or messages. I know it¡¯s too soon to expect anything, but I can¡¯t help the twinge of disappointment as I follow Mace to the kitchen.


    ¡®You want a sandwich?¡¯ Mace¡¯s voice breaks through my reverie.


    I nod absently, settling onto one of the barstools at the kitchen ind. As Mace bustles around the kitchen, I find myself staring at the empty nesting room down the hall.


    We had it built when we first moved in, hopeful that we¡¯d find an omega toplete our pack. It¡¯s remained unused all this time, a constant reminder of what we¡¯re missing.


    But now, for the first time in ages, I allow myself to imagine what it might be like filled with the scent of an omega.


    One in particr.


    I know it¡¯s too soon to let my mind wander, but I picture her curled up in a nest of nkets, safe and content, surrounded by our pack.Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    The image is so vivid, so tantalizing, that it almost hurts.


    ¡®Here,¡¯ Mace grunts, sliding a te in front of me. ¡®Eat something before you waste away.¡¯


    I¡¯m lean, but I¡¯m not skinny. I¡¯ve always found it easy enough to keep on muscle, and I work out when my schedule allows for it. Butpared to a bulky alpha like Mace, I probably seem fragile. I manage a chuckle, picking up the sandwich. ¡®Thanks.¡¯


    As I eat, I try to push thoughts of Ophelia aside. There¡¯s no guarantee she¡¯ll even agree to meet us, let alone consider joining our pack. And even if she does, there¡¯s still Leon to consider. I know Troy might not be the only one with reservations.


    What if Leon isn¡¯t okay with bringing in an omega with such aplicated past?


    But despite my best efforts, I can¡¯t shake the feeling that something significant has been set in motion. That our lives are about to change in ways we can¡¯t even begin to imagine.


    All because of an omega we haven¡¯t even met yet.


    Just when I manage to distract myself for a few minutes, the phone rings and I jump for it faster than I¡¯ve moved in a long time.


    It¡¯s them.

 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 5

    The shrill ring of my phone cuts through the haze of my suppressant-induced fog. I fumble for it, nearly knocking over the bottle of pills on my nightstand in the process.


    Great. Just what I need¡ªto spill myst lifeline all over the floor.


    ¡®Hello?¡¯ I croak as I pick up the phone off the dresser, my voice rough from disuse.


    When was thest time I actually spoke to someone?


    Yesterday?


    The day before?


    Everything¡¯s blurring together.


    I got mmed with aches and pains almost as soon as I got back from the interview, so I¡¯ve pretty much been curled up in bed with a heating pad, the few snacks that don¡¯t make my stomach turn, and my favoritefort reads and shows. Even they aren¡¯t quite scratching the itch right now, though.


    My heat is close. Inevitable, really. These pills can¡¯t stave it off much longer, and I can¡¯t risk going to the Scent Bar like this. I don¡¯t trust myself to be this vulnerable around the kinds of alphas who hire me there.


    ¡®Ophelia? This is Samantha from Temporary Bonds.¡¯


    I sit up straighter, suddenly wide awake. ¡®Oh, hi. Is everything okay?¡¯


    ¡®Everything¡¯s wonderful!¡¯ Samantha chirps, her enthusiasm grating on my already frayed nerves. ¡®I have some exciting news. A pack is interested in meeting you. They¡¯re actually avable this afternoon if you¡¯re free.¡¯


    My heart races, a mix of anticipation and dread coursing through my veins. ¡®This afternoon?¡¯ I echo, ncing at the clock. It¡¯s barely past noon. Technically, it¡¯s already afternoon.


    ¡®Is that too soon?¡¯ Samantha asks, her voice softening. ¡®I already sent their file over to your email, but normally, there¡¯s more time for you to look things over and consider. We can always reschedule if you need more time.¡¯


    I hesitate, weighing my options. On one hand, I feel like absolute shit. On the other hand, I¡¯ve already asked for a week off work¡ªtime I can¡¯t afford to waste. If this falls through, I¡¯ll be reduced to trolling rut bars for a quick fix. And at this rate, I can¡¯t even afford another refill on my suppressants.


    ¡®No, this afternoon is fine,¡¯ I hear myself say. ¡®What time should I be there?¡¯


    We hash out the details, and before I know it, I¡¯m hanging up and dragging myself out of bed. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wince. Yikes. I look like something the cat dragged in, chewed up, and spat back out.


    I stumble to the bathroom, turning on the shower and cranking up the heat. As I wait for the water to warm up, I study my reflection more closely. Dark circles under my eyes, skin pale and mmy, my hair a tangled mess.


    Not exactly a presentable omega.


    But that¡¯s what makeup is for, right?


    I step under the spray, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. As Ither up, I can¡¯t help but wonder about this pack.


    Are they old?


    Young?


    Attractive?


    Not that any of it matters. This is strictly business. Get in, get knotted, get out.


    No attachments, noplications.


    After my shower, I throw on a robe and start the arduous process of making myself look human. I blow-dry my hair until it falls in soft waves around my shoulders, then apply enough makeup to hide the signs of my suppressant-induced exhaustion. After putting on a full face, including enough contour magic to get me hunted by Van Helsing, I almost look like my old self.


    Almost.


    I rummage through my closet, trying to find something appropriate. Not too revealing¡ªI don¡¯t want to give them the wrong idea. But not too conservative either. I settle on a simple sundress in a soft blue that brings out my eyes. Casual enough for a first meeting, but still ttering.


    As I slip on a pair of sandals, I catch sight of the clock.


    Shit.


    I¡¯m going to bete if I don¡¯t hurry.


    I grab my purse and keys, racing down to the parking garage. My beat-up Honda greets me with its usual reluctance, the engine sputtering to life with a worrying rattle.


    ¡®Come on, baby,¡¯ I mutter, patting the dashboard. ¡®Just get me there and back. That¡¯s all I¡¯m asking.¡¯


    The car makes an ominous grinding noise in response.


    Great. Another repair bill I can¡¯t afford.


    Just what I needed.


    I navigate through midday traffic, my stomach churning with a mix of nerves and nausea that isn¡¯t helped by the grumbling of my car. By the time I pull into the Temporary Bonds parking lot, I¡¯m a mess of anxiety.


    ¡®You can do this,¡¯ I tell my reflection in the rearview mirror. ¡®It¡¯s just a meeting.¡¯


    With a deep breath, I step out of the car and make my way into the building. The cool air-conditioned lobby is a wee relief from the summer heat outside. I approach the reception desk, stering on my best fake smile.


    ¡®Hi, I¡¯m Ophelia Thompson. I have an appointment with a pack?¡¯


    The receptionist smiles warmly. ¡®Of course, Ms. Thompson. If you¡¯ll have a seat, Samantha will be with you shortly.¡¯


    I perch on the edge of a plush armchair, my leg bouncing nervously. I¡¯m so focused on trying to calm my racing heart that I almost miss Samantha¡¯s approach.


    ¡®Ophelia! It¡¯s so good to see you again.¡¯


    I stand, shaking her outstretched hand. ¡®Hi, Samantha. Thanks for setting this up on such short notice.¡¯


    She waves off my thanks with a smile. ¡®It¡¯s my pleasure. Now, before we go in, I just wanted to let you know¡­ this is a very prestigious pack, and you were their first choice. You¡¯re quite lucky. Every omega in the program would drool at the prospect ofnding them.¡¯


    I force another smile, even as my stomach twists.


    Lucky.


    Right.


    Because being passed around like a party favor is the height of good fortune.


    I have to admit, though, I¡¯m d I was someone¡¯s first choice. That¡¯s a tiny ego boost, all things considered. And now I¡¯m more nervous than ever.


    ¡®That¡¯s¡­ great,¡¯ I manage, hoping my voice doesn¡¯t betray myck of enthusiasm. Prestigious or not, it doesn¡¯t matter. This is temporary. Just a means to an end.


    Samantha leads me down a hallway to a in-looking door marked as a consultation room. ¡®Remember, you¡¯re in control here. If at any point you feel ufortable or want to leave, just say the word. Okay?¡¯


    I nod, touched by her concern despite myself. ¡®Okay. Thanks, Samantha.¡¯


    She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze before opening the door. ¡®Gentlemen, may I present Ophelia Thompson.¡¯


    I step into the room, my eyes immediately drawn to the three men¡ªthe three alphas¡ªwaiting inside.


    And holy shit, are they a sight to behold.


    The first thing that hits me is their scents. Even through the haze of suppressants and all the scent maskers they pump through the vents, theirbined alpha musk is intoxicating. Petrichor and sunlight, bourbon and leather, freshly baked cookies. And they all smell divine inbination. It¡¯s a heady mix that makes my head spin and my knees weak.


    The second thing I notice is how devastatingly handsome they are. Like, unfairly attractive. The kind of good-looking that makes me wonder if they¡¯re even real or if I¡¯ve stumbled into some kind of alpha fever dream.


    The tallest of the three steps forward, a warm smile lighting up his face. He has dark auburn hair that falls in soft waves around his face and warm brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He¡¯s prettier than any alpha I¡¯ve ever seen, but it¡¯s all masculine beauty. The sort of beauty I imagine motivated more than a few sculptors to put chisel to stone.


    ¡®Ophelia, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you,¡¯ he says in a deep, warm voice that makes my knees weak. ¡®I¡¯m Rhys.¡¯


    He takes my hand, and I have to suppress a shiver at the contact. His skin is warm, his grip firm but gentle. I find myself staring, lost in those kind eyes. He¡¯s definitely the one who smells like sunlight dancing across freshly wet grass after a long, hard rain.


    Rhys seems to shake himself out of a simr daze for some reason, clearing his throat before gesturing to the others. ¡®Let me introduce you some of the other members of my pack. This is Mace.¡¯


    The second alpha is huge, close to seven feet tall and built like a linebacker who¡¯s been out of the game for a while. He¡¯s a bit older than the others, probably in his early forties. His arms and shoulders are huge and ripped, but his middle is soft and padded, like a big teddy bear. But despite his intimidating size, his face is open and friendly, with twinkling gray eyes and a beard that looks soft enough to nuzzle.


    He gives me a small wave. ¡®Hi there, little one.¡¯


    Finally, Rhys turns to the third alpha. He¡¯s younger than the others, maybe in his mid twenties, with short dark hair and piercing blue eyes lined with just a hint of kohl. He¡¯s lean and muscr, with an air of danger about him that makes my pulse quicken.


    ¡®And this is Troy,¡¯ says Rhys.


    Troy nods, his expression guarded. ¡®Hey.¡¯


    Samantha clears her throat, reminding me of her presence. ¡®Well, I¡¯ll leave you all to get acquainted. Remember, Ophelia, just let me know if you need anything.¡¯


    With that, she slips out, leaving me alone with three of the most attractive alphas I¡¯ve ever seen.


    Great. No pressure or anything.


    Rhys gestures to afortable-looking armchair. ¡®Please, have a seat. Can we get you anything to drink?¡¯


    I shake my head, sinking into the chair. ¡®No, thank you. I¡¯m fine.¡¯


    There¡¯s an awkward pause as we all size each other up. I¡¯m acutely aware of their gazes on me, and I resist the urge to fidget under their scrutiny.


    Finally, Rhys breaks the silence. ¡®So, Ophelia, tell us a bit about yourself. What do you do for a living?¡¯


    I freeze, my mind racing. What do I tell them? Somehow, I don¡¯t think ¡®I sell my body to strange alphas¡¯ is going to go over well.


    ¡®I, uh, work in customer service,¡¯ I saymely.


    It¡¯s not entirely a lie, right?


    I do serve customers.


    Just in a very specific way.


    Troy raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.


    But Rhys just nods encouragingly. ¡®That must be challenging work. Dealing with the public can be quite demanding.¡¯


    You have no idea, buddy.


    ¡®It has its ups and downs,¡¯ I say with a shrug. ¡®What about you guys? What do you do?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m a doctor,¡¯ Rhys begins, looking at the others. ¡®Mace is an MMA trainer.¡¯


    ¡®Really?¡¯ My eyes widen as I study the burly alpha in shock. My track record with alphas who fight professionally is a huge freaking mess, but this one seems like a gentle giant, at least.


    Then again, I know how deceptive first impressions can be.


    Especially when ites to alphas.


    Mace shes me a disarming grin, his big arms folded over his broad chest. ¡®Been a while since I stepped into the ring myself.¡¯


    ¡®And Troy here is our resident musician,¡¯ Rhys says, ncing to the younger alpha to his right.


    ¡®Oh?¡¯ I cock my head, realizing Troy is the only one who hasn¡¯t really looked at me the whole time. In fact, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯s avoiding eye contact entirely. Does he find me that distasteful? ¡®What kind of music?¡¯


    ¡®Electronic,¡¯ Troy answers. At least he¡¯s notpletely ignoring me, but he¡¯s still not meeting my eyes. ¡®Probably nothing you¡¯ve heard of.¡¯


    If it¡¯s the type of hypnotic, endlessly looping shit they y twenty-four seven in clubs, it¡¯s probably seared into my brain already, but I decide not to admit that since he clearly isn¡¯t interested in expounding on the subject.


    ¡®There are actually two more members of our pack,¡¯ Rhys adds. ¡®But they couldn¡¯t be here today. My bond mate is preparing for a big fight, and his manager is our beta. I¡¯ll let them introduce themselves to you when the timees. If you¡¯ll have us, that is.¡¯


    Another fighter?


    I hope my internal grimace isn¡¯t obvious.


    But not every alpha is Leon, I remind myself. Even if most of them are awful in their own way.


    ¡®Bond mate?¡¯ I echo.


    Rhys and the others exchange a nce. Rhys tilts his head and says, ¡®I mentioned it in our profile, but did they not include that?¡¯


    ¡®Oh,¡¯ I say, my cheeks flushing. ¡®I¡­ haven¡¯t actually looked at your profile yet,¡¯ I admit.


    Wonderful. Now they know I was desperate enough to meet with the first pack Temporary Bonds offered without even ncing at their file. If they think anything of it, though, none of the alphas shows it. Even Troy seems unphased.


    ¡®I¡¯m not sure how much you know about alpha bonds,¡¯ Rhys admits. ¡®We can discuss it in more detailter, but the abridged version is that while all of us are bonded as a pack, only the two of us are bonded bonded.¡¯


    ¡®Oh.¡¯ I blink. ¡®So you¡¯re¡­ together?¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ Rhys answers with a chuckle. ¡®Not like that. We just share a deep bond, kind of like¡­ twins. And we share almost everything else, too.¡¯


    My mind immediately drifts to wondering exactly what almost everything else entails, but I smack myself mentally like I¡¯m batting a hand away from a cake.


    ¡®They finish each other¡¯s sentences, the whole shebang,¡¯ Troy says tly. ¡®It¡¯s annoying as shit.¡¯


    Mace elbows him, but judging from the smirk on the older alpha¡¯s face, he doesn¡¯t disagree.


    I can¡¯t help butugh. ¡®And the others¡­ Will they, uh, be involved in this arrangement?¡¯


    Rhys exchanges a nce with the others before answering. ¡®Not initially, no. They won¡¯t be back for a while. But in the future, if you¡¯refortable with it and if this arrangement continues, then yes, they would be involved.¡¯


    I nod, relief washing over me. Not that it matters. I don¡¯t n on sticking around long enough to meet the rest of their pack.


    ¡®So, Ophelia,¡¯ Rhys says, leaning forward slightly. ¡®What are you looking for in this arrangement? What do you hope to get out of it?¡¯


    I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Honesty is probably the best policy here, right? ¡®Look, I¡¯m going to be straight with you. I¡¯m not looking for anything serious. Just a casual thing to get me through my heat. That¡¯s it.¡¯


    I pause, studying their reactions. Rhys and Mace seem a little disappointed, but they nod understandingly. A flicker of something like surprise crosses Troy¡¯s face, but it vanishes just as quickly.


    I can¡¯t even be bothered wondering what that¡¯s about. I gave up trying to make sense of alphas and their whims a long time ago.


    ¡®Is that¡­ going to be a problem?¡¯ I ask warily, looking between them.


    ¡®No,¡¯ Rhys says a bit too quickly. ¡®Not at all.¡¯


    ¡®We were looking for casual,¡¯ Troy says, and something about the way he emphasizes were makes the remark seem a bit pointed. The look Rhys shoots him confirms it.


    ¡®I assume Samantha mentioned my¡­ condition?¡¯ I add hesitantly.


    Rhys nods, his expression softening. ¡®Yes, she did. And I want you to know that it doesn¡¯t change anything for us. We¡¯re here to help, in whatever way you¡¯refortable with.¡¯


    I turn to the others, my gaze lingering on Troy. ¡®And you? Does it bother you that I¡¯ve got a broken mark?¡¯


    Troy¡¯s head shoots up like he wasn¡¯t expecting me to call him out, but I¡¯m assuming that¡¯s the reason he seems so ufortable around me. I¡¯d rather get that shit out in the open right now so we can all avoid wasting each other¡¯s time.


    Once Troy has recovered from his surprise, he frowns and says, ¡®No, it doesn¡¯t bother me.¡¯


    It¡¯s not exactly an enthusiastic response, but I guess it¡¯ll have to do. Not that it matters. I don¡¯t need his respect or his love.


    I just need their knots.


    Then I¡¯m gone.


    ¡®Doesn¡¯t bother me one bit,¡¯ Mace chimes in. ¡®You¡¯re not defined by your past.¡¯


    I can¡¯t help but smile a little. He seems genuine enough, at least. ¡®Thanks. I appreciate the sentiment.¡¯


    Rhys leans forward, his expression earnest. ¡®Ophelia, I want you to know that we¡¯ll do whatever we can to make you feelfortable and safe during your heat. If you¡¯ll have us, that is.¡¯


    I hesitate, weighing my options. This pack seems¡­plicated. There¡¯s clearly more going on here than a simple heat arrangement. But their scents are calling to me in a way I¡¯ve never experienced before, making me want things I¡¯ve sworn off long ago.


    And if I¡¯m being honest with myself, I¡¯m feeling a little desperate. The thought of spending my heat with these three is far more appealing than picking up some random alpha at a rut bar.


    ¡®Okay,¡¯ I hear myself say. ¡®I¡¯m in.¡¯


    The relief on their faces is palpable. Rhys smiles warmly and Mace makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest. Even Troy¡¯s expression softens slightly.


    ¡®Wonderful,¡¯ Rhys says. ¡®When is your next heat due?¡¯


    I shrug. ¡®Whenever, really. I¡¯m on suppressants, so¡­¡¯


    Rhys¡¯s brow furrows in concern. ¡®I see. Well, if you¡¯refortable with it, we could aim for tomorrow evening? That would give us some time to prepare for your arrival. Of course, that¡¯s assuming you¡¯re okay with spending your heat at our home.¡¯N?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.


    I hesitate. I have a strict policy against going home with clients, but this is different, right? Temporary Bonds has vetted them, and it¡¯s not like I can take three alphas back to my tiny apartment.


    ¡®Yeah, okay,¡¯ I agree. ¡®Tomorrow works.¡¯


    They exchange excited nces, and I can¡¯t help but feel a flutter of excited nervousness in my stomach.


    What am I getting myself into?


    We exchange numbers and finalize the details. As I stand to leave, Rhys takes my hand again, his touch sending sparks up my arm.


    ¡®We¡¯re looking forward to tomorrow, Ophelia,¡¯ he says softly. ¡®Thank you for giving us a chance.¡¯


    I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As I walk out of the room, I can feel their eyes on me, their scents lingering in my nose.


    Tomorrow.


    Tomorrow, I¡¯ll be spending my heat with three incredibly attractive alphas who smell like everything I¡¯ve ever wanted.


    What could possibly go wrong?

 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 6

    The door clicks shut behind Ophelia, and for a moment, we¡¯re all frozen in ce. The air feels thick with tension and unspoken thoughts. I can¡¯t shake the image of her¡ªthose piercing blue eyes, the way her raven hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, the subtle curve of her lips when she smiled.


    And that scent¡­


    Rhys is the first to move, clearing his throat and straightening his tie. ¡®Well, gentlemen, shall we?¡¯


    We file out of the consultation room like zombies, barely acknowledging Samantha¡¯s cheerful goodbye. It¡¯s not until we¡¯re piled into Mace¡¯s massive SUV that anyone speaks.


    ¡®So we all just felt that, right?¡¯ Mace¡¯s gruff voice breaks the silence, his meaty hands gripping the steering wheel like it might try to escape.N?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.


    I lean back in my seat, trying for nonchnce. ¡®Depends on what ¡®that¡¯ you¡¯re referring to, big guy.¡¯


    Mace¡¯s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. ¡®The moment she walked into the room, even with all those scent maskers being circted through the air vents, I felt like I was at the ocean, surrounded by the scent of jasmine flowers.¡¯


    I swallow hard, memories of that intoxicating scent flooding my senses. ¡®Oh, yeah. That. I felt that.¡¯


    Rhys turns in his seat to face us, his expression uncharacteristically serious. ¡®We need to discuss what this means for the pack.¡¯


    I can¡¯t help but snort. ¡®Isn¡¯t it obvious? It means our scent match is an omega who¡¯s dead set against anything but a casual arrangement.¡¯


    The words taste bitter in my mouth. Because despite all my reservations, despite my fears about getting involved with another omega, the moment I saw Ophelia, all those worries went out the window. It was like being hit by a freight train of want and need and mine.


    But I can¡¯t shake the memory of thest omega I was interested in. The reason I left my life as the lead guitarist for Dark Liaison behind and never looked back.


    She was a princess, too.


    Granted, I don¡¯t even think I could pick her out of a lineup after Ophelia shook her and every other omega I¡¯ve been with out of my skull, but still. Those old insecurities haven¡¯t gone anywhere, even if I started a new career as a faceless musician and the only people who know my actual identity are in my pack.


    ¡®She doesn¡¯t know she¡¯s our scent match,¡¯ Rhys reasons. ¡®That much was clear, and it won¡¯t be obvious to her until we see her again without all the scent maskers and suppressants. We don¡¯t know how she¡¯ll react.¡¯


    Mace grunts in agreement. ¡®What about the others? Leon and Maddox deserve to know.¡¯


    Rhys nods slowly. ¡®I¡¯ll tell Leon tonight. He needs to focus on his fight, but he deserves to know what¡¯s happening.¡¯


    I lean my head against the cool ss of the window, watching the city blur by as Mace starts to drive. ¡®And what exactly is happening, Doc? Because from where I¡¯m sitting, it looks like we¡¯re about to get collectively fucked up by an omega who wants nothing to do with us beyond a quick fuck.¡¯


    ¡®Troy,¡¯ Rhys admonishes, but there¡¯s no heat behind it. He knows I¡¯m right.


    ¡®Look,¡¯ I continue, sitting up straight. ¡®I get it. She smells amazing. She¡¯s gorgeous. But let¡¯s not forget about that broken mark.¡¯


    Mace¡¯s grip on the steering wheel tightens. ¡®That¡¯s not her fault, kid. Some alpha did that to her.¡¯


    I wince, feeling like an ass. ¡®That¡¯s not what I meant. I just¡­ I don¡¯t want us to get our hopes up. For all we know, she¡¯s still hoping to get back together with the dickwad who did that to her.¡¯


    The car falls silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can¡¯t help but rey every moment of our meeting with Ophelia in my mind. The way she hesitated before taking Rhys¡¯s hand, the guarded look in her eyes when we asked about her job. There¡¯s more to her story than she¡¯s letting on, that¡¯s for sure.


    And then there¡¯s the way she¡¯d stiffened when Rhys mentioned Leon¡¯s name. It was subtle, but I caught it.


    ¡®There¡¯s something else,¡¯ I murmur after a few minutes.


    ¡®What is it?¡¯ Rhys asks.


    ¡®When you mentioned Leon¡¯s job¡­ she acted weird,¡¯ I answer.


    ¡®Yeah, I kinda picked up on that, too,¡¯ Mace admits.


    I know what I saw, but it¡¯s good to know it wasn¡¯t just my imagination.


    Rhys frowns. ¡®What are you saying?¡¯


    ¡®I¡¯m saying maybe she did her research. Maybe she knows who he is. Who you are.¡¯


    ¡®What does it matter?¡¯ Rhys asks, an unmistakable note of defensiveness in his tone. ¡®We gave our information to Temporary Bonds, it¡¯s not like we were hiding anything.¡¯


    ¡®He¡¯s right,¡¯ Mace says before I can respond. ¡®Besides, if we¡¯re not just reading into her reaction, it¡¯s not like there were stars in her eyes. She seemed¡­ bothered, actually.¡¯


    I clench my jaw, but he has a point. Most omegas see dor signs when they look at a pack like ours. Rhys and Leon especially. But she didn¡¯t exactly seem thrilled.


    ¡®Look, Troy, I know you¡¯re on edge after everything that happened to you,¡¯ Rhys begins gently, ncing back at me in the mirror.


    ¡®This isn¡¯t about that,¡¯ I snap.


    He holds his hands up in defense. ¡®Okay. I¡¯m just saying, I¡¯m not asking you to trust her, but she is our scent match. We need to get to know her without any presuppositions.¡¯


    ¡®Yeah,¡¯ I mutter, looking through the window. ¡®You¡¯re right.¡¯


    Inwardly, though, I can¡¯t help but wonder if Ophelia has a few of her own. But Rhys has a point. If she is our scent match, there¡¯s no way to turn back now. And if I¡¯m being honest with myself¡­


    I don¡¯t want there to be.

 Knot Happening Again: Chapter 7

    The roar of the crowd is deafening, a wall of sound that washes over me as I dance around my opponent. Sweat drips down my face, stinging my eyes, but I don¡¯t dare wipe it away. One moment of distraction is all it takes in this game.


    My opponent, a burly alpha from Ennd with a shock of ginger hair and a mean right hook, circles me warily. We¡¯ve been at this for two rounds already, each of usnding solid hits, but neither gaining the upper hand.


    I should be focused. I should be in the zone, my mind clear of everything but the fight. But I can¡¯t shake the guilt that¡¯s been gnawing at me since I left home.


    I didn¡¯t tell Rhys.


    I chickened out, like a fucking coward.


    My opponent feints left, and I almost fall for it. I catch myself at thest second, barely avoiding a punch that would haveid me out t.


    ¡®Focus, Leon!¡¯ Maddox¡¯s voice cuts through the noise of the crowd. I nce over to see him at the edge of the ring, his usually perfectly styled brown hair disheveled from running his hands through it in frustration.N?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.


    Right.


    Focus.


    I need to win this fight.


    I can deal with my guiltter.


    But even as I tell myself that, my mind wanders. What if Rhys finds out before I can tell him? What if the omega they met today is the one, and I¡¯ve ruined any chance the others had at happiness because of my cowardice?


    The thought distracts me just long enough for the Englishman tond a solid hit to my jaw. Pain explodes across my face, and I stagger back, tasting blood.


    Shit.


    The crowd gasps, then roars louder. They smell blood in the water. My opponent grins, sensing victory.


    Not today, buddy.


    I shake off the hit, forcing myself to focus. No more thoughts of Rhys, or omegas, or my past mistakes. Just me, my opponent, and the next three minutes.


    As my opponentes in for another hit, I duck under his swing andnd a solid uppercut to his ribs. He grunts, stumbling back, and I press my advantage.


    Left jab, right cross, kick to the thigh. I fall into a rhythm, my body moving on autopilot as years of training take over.


    Before I know it, the bell is ringing, and the ref is pulling me off my opponent. The crowd is going wild, chanting my name, but it all feels distant, hollow.


    I¡¯ve won, but it doesn¡¯t feel like a victory.


    As the ref raises my hand, dering me the winner, I scan the crowd. Maddox is beaming, already on his phone, no doubt lining up my next fight. The fans are ecstatic, their energy electric.


    But all I can think about is how I need to get home ande clean to Rhys before it¡¯s toote.


    The post-fight interviews pass in a blur. I give the usual titudes about respecting my opponent and looking forward to the next challenge, but my heart isn¡¯t in it.


    Finally, I escape to the locker room, desperate for a moment of peace.


    ¡®That was a hell of a fight,¡¯ Maddox says, following me in. He¡¯s practically vibrating with excitement, his blue eyes sparkling. ¡®You had me worried there for a minute, but damn, you came back strong in thatst half!¡¯


    I grunt in response, peeling off my gloves and tossing them aside. Maddox hands me a towel, which I use to wipe the sweat and blood from my face.


    ¡®You okay, champ?¡¯ he asks, his excitement dimming slightly as he takes in my mood. ¡®You seemed¡­ off out there.¡¯


    I sigh, sinking onto a bench. ¡®I¡¯m fine, Mads. Just tired.¡¯


    He doesn¡¯t look convinced. Maddox has been with me long enough to know when something¡¯s up. He¡¯s more than just my manager; he¡¯s pack, family. The thought makes the guilt twist even deeper in my gut.


    I take a moment to really look at him, to ground myself in the familiar. Maddox is all lean muscle and nervous energy, always moving, always thinking three steps ahead. His brown hair is artfully tousled, like he just rolled out of bed looking perfectly put together. Which, knowing Maddox, he probably did. He¡¯s wearing one of his signature shy suits, this one a deep purple that shouldn¡¯t work but somehow does.


    ¡®Your head wasn¡¯t in it,¡¯ he says, perching on the bench across from me. ¡®You¡¯re lucky you pulled it together in thatst round.¡¯


    I scowl, irritation ring. ¡®I won, didn¡¯t I?¡¯


    Maddox rolls his eyes. ¡®You always win, Leon. That¡¯s not the point. Your next opponent won¡¯t be so easy to overwhelm with brute strength.¡¯


    My eyes widen at that. ¡®Don¡¯t tell me you managed to get Ace Sterling.¡¯


    Maddox grins, his earlier concern forgotten in the face of his triumph. ¡®I¡¯m the best manager in the world, aren¡¯t I?¡¯


    Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. Rhys¡¯s name shes on the screen and my stomach drops.


    ¡®I need to take this,¡¯ I mutter, already heading for the door.


    Maddox nods, understanding in his eyes. ¡®Tell the good doctor I said hi.¡¯


    I step out into the hallway, taking a deep breath before answering. ¡®Hey, Rhys.¡¯


    ¡®Leon!¡¯ Rhys¡¯s warm voice washes over me, and for a moment, I forget about my guilt. ¡®How was the match?¡¯


    ¡®I won,¡¯ I say, trying to inject a fraction of the same enthusiasm into my voice.


    ¡®That¡¯s wonderful!¡¯ Rhys exims. ¡®Can¡¯t say I¡¯m surprised, but congrattions.¡¯


    ¡®Thanks,¡¯ I manage. ¡®But enough about me. How was the Temporary Bonds meetup?¡¯


    There¡¯s a pause on the other end of the line, long enough to make me wonder if the call dropped. Then Rhys speaks, his voice oddly hesitant.


    ¡®Leon, I¡­ I don¡¯t know how to say this, but we met the omega we matched with and¡­ I think she¡¯s our scent match.¡¯


    The words hit me like a punch to the gut, harder than anything my opponent threw in the ring.


    For a moment, I can¡¯t breathe, can¡¯t think.


    Our scent match?


    No. This can¡¯t be happening.


    ¡®Leon? Are you upset?¡¯ Rhys¡¯s voice is small, worried.


    I swallow hard, forcing myself to speak past the lump in my throat. ¡®No, of course not. It¡¯s not like you nned it.¡¯


    But inwardly, I¡¯m reeling. Now it¡¯s toote toe clean. How can I tell Rhys about my past when he¡¯s just found our fucking scent match?


    ¡®There are some things we need to discuss,¡¯ Rhys says, ¡®but it¡¯s probably better left for when you get home.¡¯


    I nod, forgetting for a moment that he can¡¯t see me. ¡®Yeah, that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s probably best.¡¯


    There¡¯s another pause, and I can practically hear Rhys gathering his courage. ¡®There¡¯s one more thing. She¡¯s¡­ going to spend her heat with us. Tomorrow night.¡¯


    My grip on the phone tightens.


    Tomorrow night?


    That¡¯s so soon.


    Too soon.


    ¡®But only if you¡¯refortable with it,¡¯ Rhys adds quickly. ¡®If you want us to wait until you¡¯re home, we can?¡ª¡¯


    ¡®No,¡¯ I interrupt, the word escaping before I can think better of it. ¡®No, it¡¯s fine. Go ahead.¡¯


    I should be racing home, demanding to meet this omega before wemit to anything. He¡¯s going to be suspicious that¡¯s not what I¡¯m doing. But the thought of facing Rhys, of having to exin why I can¡¯t do this¡­


    I thought this would just be a temporary way to get them off my back about taking an omega into the pack. That they could find someone they could have a fling with and I could keeping up with excuses why I can¡¯t get involved.


    For fuck¡¯s sake, isn¡¯t the whole damnpany called Temporary Bonds?


    ¡®Are you sure?¡¯ Rhys asks, and I can hear the mix of hope and concern¡ªand, as I expected, a hint of suspicion¡ªin his voice.


    ¡®I¡¯m sure,¡¯ I lie. ¡®I¡¯ll be home as soon as I can.¡¯


    We say our goodbyes and I end the call, leaning back against the wall. My head is spinning, my chest tight with a mix of emotions I can¡¯t even begin to untangle.


    I waited too long.


    There¡¯s no turning back now.


    As I stand there, trying to gather the courage to face Maddox and the rest of my post-fight responsibilities, one thought keeps echoing through my mind.


    What have I fucking done?


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!