Page 25 of Knot Happening Again

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, declaring 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 and come clean to Rhys before it's too late.

The post-fight interviews pass in a blur. I give the usual platitudes 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 that last 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 flashy 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 that last round."

I scowl, irritation flaring. "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 flashes 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 exclaims. "Can't say I'm surprised, but congratulations."

"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 ourscentmatch."

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.

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