Page 110 of Knot Happening Again

Mace gives me a long look. "You sure about that? Because from where I'm standing, you've got a lot on your mind. And Ophelia's right at the top of that list."

I turn away, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long drink. "I can handle it."

"Can you?" Mace's voice is quiet but intense. "Because I've seen what happens when fighters bring their personal shit into the ring. It never ends well."

I spin to face him, anger flaring. "What do you want me to do, Mace? I can't pretend none of this is happening."

"I'm not asking you to," Mace says, his tone softening. "I'm asking you to deal with it. Head-on. Stop running, stop avoiding. Face it."

I let out a long breath, the fight draining out of me. "I don't know how."

Mace puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "Like I said, start by coming to dinner tonight. Now, how about we go a few more rounds? Work on that focus of yours."

We fall back into our sparring match, but this time, I force myself to stay present. To focus on Mace's movements, on my own body, on the rhythm of our dance. It's not easy—thoughts of Ophelia keep trying to creep in. Then again, she always was my own personally tailored distraction.

As we finish up, both of us breathing hard and covered in sweat, Mace gives me an approving nod. "Better. Keep that focus in the ring, and Jace won't know what hit him."

I manage a small smile. "Thanks, Mace. For everything."

He waves it off. "That's what pack is for. Now hit the showers. You're a mess."

I laugh, the sound feeling foreign in my throat. "Yes, sir."

As I head to the locker room, my mind drifts back to Ophelia. The thought of seeing her tonight, of being in the same room as her, sends a mix of anticipation and dread coursing through me. But Mace is right—I can't keep running. It's time to face the music.

I strip off my sweat-soaked clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me. As I stand there, I try to prepare myself for tonight. What will I say to her? How will shereact? The questions swirl in my mind, but I force them down. I'll deal with it when the time comes.

For now, I need to focus on getting getting dressed, and making it to dinner. One step at a time. That's all I can do.

As I turn off the water and reach for my towel, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The man staring back at me looks tired, uncertain. But there's something else there too—a determination I haven't seen in a while.

For so long, I've been hiding this secret. I've been hiding the truth for so many years, I've lost track of who I was. Who I want to be. Maybe it's time I started to remember.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. Whatever happens tonight, whatever comes next with Ophelia and the pack, I'll face it. I have to. For her, for them, and for myself.

CHAPTER 33

TROY

My fingers dance over the ivory keys, coaxing out a melody softer than my usual fare. It's different, yeah, but I can't deny the inspiration that's been hitting me lately. The notes flow, gentle yet insistent, telling a story I'm not sure I fully understand yet.

A scent tickles my nose—ocean breeze. Ophelia. I turn my head, catching her standing in the doorway, her blue eyes wide as she watches me play.

"Sorry," she says, a blush creeping up her pale cheeks. "I heard music and got curious."

I'm on my feet before she can retreat, my hand wrapping around her wrist. "Not so fast, princess." I tug her into the room, kicking the door shut behind her. "I never mind an interruption when it's coming from you. Could use a break anyway."

She stumbles a bit as I pull her toward the keyboard bench, but I steady her, sitting down and pulling her onto my lap. She tenses for a moment before relaxing against me.

"Ever played?" I ask, reaching around her to rest my hands on the keys.

She shakes her head. "Never had the chance."

"Time for your first lesson then." I guide her hands to the keys, showing her where to place her fingers. Her skin is soft under mine, and I can't help but breathe in her scent. It's intoxicating, filling my lungs and making my head spin.

"Like this?" she asks, pressing down gently.

"Perfect," I murmur, my lips close to her ear. She shivers, and I have to bite back a growl. Focus, Troy.

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