Page 91 of Knot Happening Again

I nod, respecting his wish for silence. But I also know Leon. I know he needs to get this out somehow. "Fair enough," I say. Then, after a beat, "Want to spar instead?"

For a moment, I think he's going to refuse. But then he stops, chest heaving as he catches his breath. He turns to look at me, and the pain in his eyes is almost physical. "Yeah," he says finally. "Yeah, okay."

We move into the ring, both of us falling into familiar stances. It's been a while since we've done this. We circle each other, neither making the first move.

Then, suddenly, Leon lunges. His fist comes flying toward my face, but I manage to dodge at the last second. I counter with a jab to his ribs, which he blocks easily.

As we trade blows, I can feel Leon starting to loosen up. The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, his movements becoming more fluid. And then, between punches and blocks, he starts to talk.

"I fucked up, Maddox," he says, his voice raw.

I dodge another punch, using the momentum to land a soft blow to his side. "Yeah, you did," I agree, because there's no point in sugarcoating it. "But the question is, what are you going to do about it now?"

Leon falters for a moment, giving me an opening to sweep his legs out from under him. He goes down hard, but rolls back to his feet almost immediately. "I don't know," he admits, circling me again. "I don't know if there's anything I can do to fix this."

I feint left, then come in with a right hook that Leon barely blocks. "Maybe not," I say. "But you have to try. For Ophelia's sake. For the pack's sake."

Leon nods, his eyes never leaving mine as we continue to spar. "I've been trying to find her for weeks," he says. "Ever since I finally managed to track her down to the Scent Bar. I wanted to make things right, to explain..."

"And now?" I ask, ducking under a high kick.

"Now?" Leon laughs bitterly. "Now she's in our house, in heat, being taken care of by my pack. My bondmate. And she hates me. As she should."

I pause, lowering my guard slightly. "She doesn't hate you, Leon," I say softly. "Sheshould. But I could tell from the moment she saw you, that's not the case. She's hurt. Confused. Scared. But I don't think she hates you. It would probably be easier if she did."

Leon takes advantage of my momentary distraction, landing a solid punch to my gut. I wheeze, doubling over, but manage to block his follow-up strike.

"She should," Leon agrees, his voice breaking. "What I did to her... it's unforgivable."

I straighten up, meeting his gaze. "Yeah. It was."

We continue to spar, our movements becoming more intense as Leon works through his emotions. I can see the guilt, the self-loathing, the desperate need for redemption in every punch he throws.

"I love her," Leon admits suddenly, the words seeming to surprise even him. "I never stopped. I was just too young, too stupid to realize it back then. And I…" His voice breaks and for the first time since I've known him, I think he might actually cry. Instead, he clenches his fists so hard I see a trickle of blood and sweat drip down them. "I've ruined everything."

I step back, lowering my hands. Leon does the same, both of us panting from exertion. "Maybe," I tell him firmly. "But you were looking for Ophelia, and well… you found her. She found us. She's our fucking scent match. I don't believe in that much coincidence. Maybe there's still a way we can figure all this out."

Leon looks at me, hope and doubt warring in his eyes. "How?" he asks, and in that moment he sounds so broken, so lost. "How do we move forward from this?"

I step closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think that's up for Ophelia to decide," I say. "First things first, we need to help her through her heat. Then, if she's willing, we talk—all of us, together."

"And if she isn't willing?" he challenges. There's something in his tone that makes me wary. Like he's already come to that decision on his own.

"What are you saying, Leon?" I demand.

He takes a deep breath, looking out at the mural painted along the far wall across the cinderblocks. An artist's rendition of the cityscape that's started to peel and fade after all these years.

"I'm saying that if Ophelia wants me to, I'm leaving the pack," he says in a tone of somber resignation.

His words hit me like a punch in the gut. "Why do I get the feeling this isn't a decision you just came to tonight?"

"Because it isn't," he admits with a shrug of defeat. "Even before I knew it was her… I knew I couldn't ever take another omega. And I'm the thing that's been holding the rest of you back from what you want, what you deserve, for long enough."

"You never told us," I murmur, unable to help the hurt I feel. "Why?"

Leon's brow wrinkles, as if the answer should be obvious. "How could I? After what I did… how could any of you look at me the same again?"

I sigh. "We couldn't. But we're pack, Leon. You should have told us. Maybe we could have found her sooner, together."

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