Page 24 of Knot Happening Again

"I'm saying maybe she did her research. Maybe she knows who he is. Whoyouare."

"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 dollar 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, glancing 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 sheisour 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 sheisour 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.

CHAPTER 7

LEON

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 England 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 us landing 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 the last second, barely avoiding a punch that would have laid me out flat.

"Focus, Leon!" Maddox's voice cuts through the noise of the crowd. I glance 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.

Right.

Focus.

I need to win this fight.

I can deal with my guilt later.

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

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