Page 57 of Knot Happening Again

My eyes scan the room, searching for the face that's haunted my dreams for seven long years. I move through the crowd, my senses on high alert.

Omegas brush against me, their scents free flowing and meant to entice and lure, but none of them register.

I'm here for one omega, and one omega only.

And then, suddenly, there she is.

Ophelia.

She's perched on a barstool at the far end of the room, her posture perfect, long and shapely legs crossed at the ankles. Her raven hair cascades down her back in soft waves, longer than I remember. She's wearing a tight black dress that hugs every curve, the high collar no doubt hiding the incomplete mark I left on her neck all those years ago. Even from across the room, I can see the sharp line of her jaw, the elegant curve of her neck.

The sight of her hits me like a freight train, knocking the air from my lungs. All the old feelings come rushing back—desire, affection, regret.

But there's something else, too.

Something new and overwhelming.

Her scent.

It washes over me, slicing through the miasma of the bar like a knife. Jasmine and ocean air, intoxicating and all-consuming. It calls to something primal inside me, awakening instincts I didn't even know I possessed.

And in that moment, I know.

She's my scent match.

The realization rocks me to my core, turning my world upside down.

How is this possible?

How could I not have known back then?

My mind races, trying to make sense of it all. Was I too young, too immature to recognize it? Or did I subconsciously push it away, afraid of the commitment it would entail?

No… that might be part of it, but not all.

I hadn't found my pack yet.

It's rare for an alpha to find his omega before he finds his pack. Almost unheard of. And I've heard some don't recognize her at all until a pack bond forms.

But this…

This just seems like a sucker punch from the universe.

However it happened.

Like the punchline to a joke that's been in the works since I walked away from her all those years ago.

And if Ophelia is my scent match, that means this omega Rhys and the others are so worked up about is a fraud after all. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time an omega has used pheromone sprays and other tricks to convince a pack of powerful alphas into thinking she’s their scent match.

What the hell am I going to tell them?

But right now, all the questions have to wait.

Right now, I have one focus.

I take a step toward her, then another, drawn by an invisible force I can't resist. The crowd seems to part before me, or maybe I'm just shoving my way through, I can't be sure.

All I know is that I need to get to her.

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