Page 83 of Knot Happening Again

Ophelia shakes her head, as if trying to clear it. "Nothing. I just… didn't realize that was his name, too."

"Too?" Mace asks, frowning in confusion.

"It's nothing," she says quickly, but I can hear the tremor in her voice. "Just... my ex had the same name."

Maddox, Mace, and I exchange a look over Ophelia's head. A strange thought flits through my mind—could it be the same Leon? The one who left her with a broken mark and a lifetime of pain? But I quickly dismiss it.

No, that's insane. It's a huge city, and Leon isn't an uncommon name. It has to be a coincidence.

More importantly, Leon would never do something like that. Never.

But as I watch Ophelia pick at her food, her earlier appetite seemingly gone, I can't shake the feeling that something is off.

I feel my knot start to go down, the swelling gradually subsiding. Gently, I lift Ophelia off me, both of us wincing slightly at the sensation. "I'm going to go shower," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her temple. Her skin is warm beneath my lips, and I have to resist the urge to pull her close and never let go. "And see if I can find the other two."

She nods, cuddling up between Maddox and Mace in my absence.

As I head to the bathroom, my mind races. There's so much we still don't know about Ophelia, so many pieces of her past that don't quite fit together. And then there's Leon, our missing alpha, the final piece of our pack puzzle. What's keeping him away? Why hasn't he come to meet Ophelia?

I step into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over me. It helps clear my head, washing away the lingering fog of sleep and sex. As I soap up, I can't shake the nagging feeling that there's more to this Leon situation than meets the eye.

But right now, I have more pressing concerns. Like finding our missing alphas and bringing them back to our omega where they belong. Because one thing's for certain—now that we've found Ophelia, now that we know what it's like to have her in our lives, in our bed, I'm not letting her go.

No matter what secrets her past might hold.

CHAPTER 23

RHYS

My frustration is reaching a boiling point.

I've been at this for hours, driving from one of Leon's usual haunts to another, each empty location fueling my anger and worry. Now I’m in the parking lot of Leon's old gym, looking harried in the gym’s glass doors.

Disheveled red hair, dark circles under my eyes, a day's worth of stubble on my jaw. I barely recognize myself. This isn't me. I'm usually the composed one, the voice of reason in our pack. But Leon's disappearance has shaken me to my core. Especially when our omega needs him the most.

Where the hell is he?

I pull out my phone, the screen hot from sitting in my pocket. My thumb hovers over Leon's contact for a moment before I hit call. The familiar ringtone echoes in my ear once, twice, three times before switching to voicemail. Just like the last dozen times I've tried.

"Leon, it's me again," I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "I don't know what's going on, but we need to talk. The pack needs you. I need you. Please, just... call me back."

I hang up, knowing it's futile. If he hasn't responded to my other messages, why would this one be any different? I leanagainst my car, the metal hot against my back even through my shirt. The parking lot is nearly empty, just a few cars belonging to the dedicated gym-goers who don't let the unpredictable weather deter them from their workouts.

As I'm about to admit defeat and head home, my phone rings. I snatch it up, heart leaping, but it's not Leon's name on the screen. It's a number I don't recognize. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, I answer.

"Dr. Carver," a gruff voice comes through the speaker. It takes me a moment to place it—the private investigator I hired to track Leon down the other day.

I hate that I've resorted to this, but I'm out of options.

"Yes, this is he," I reply, straightening up. "Do you have something?"

"I do," the investigator confirms. "Your friend has been spotted at a rather... infamous location downtown."

My stomach drops, a cold feeling spreading through my chest despite the heat. "Where?" I ask, dreading the answer.

"The Scent Bar," he says, his voice heavy with implication. "He's been seen there three nights in the last week."

The words hit me like a physical blow. The Scent Bar?

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