Page 103 of Knot Happening Again

I throw another combination, my fists a blur of motion. Left jab, right cross, left hook. The bag swings wildly, and I dance around it, light on my feet despite the exhaustion creeping into my muscles.

"Leon, man, you gotta call it a night," Tony's voice cuts through the rhythm of my punches. "You'll wear yourself out before the fight even starts."

I ignore him, landing a vicious uppercut that makes the chains rattle. Tony sighs, and I can picture him shaking his head without even looking.

"I'm fine," I growl, not breaking my flow. "Just need to get a few more rounds in."

"You said that an hour ago," Tony counters, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. "Come on, big guy. Time to rest those muscles."

I'm about to argue when a scent hits me, subtle but unmistakable. Omega. Sweet and syrupy, it cuts through the stale gym air like a knife. It's nothing like the light, intoxicating aroma of the ocean, more cloying and sweet, and I look up and see Tony's daughter traipsing back behind the main counter as she chats with a regular. But it's enough to take me back down memory lane, to remind me of the night I fucked up everything. My fists falter mid-combo, and suddenly I'm not in the gym anymore.

I'm back in that summer night, seven years ago. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and ocean. Ophelia. Her blue eyes sparkle in the moonlight, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she leads me by the hand through her backyard.

"Leon," she whispers, her voice sending shivers down my spine. "We have to be quiet. My parents will kill me if they catch us."

I pull her close, drinking in her scent. It's intoxicating, clouding my mind with desire. "Then we'll just have to be very, very quiet," I murmur against her ear, delighting in the way she trembles against me.

We sneak into her room. I've never been in here before, but then, I've never had reason to. We might be engaged, but that's all been planned out by other people.

Moonlight filters through the curtains, casting dappled shadows across Ophelia's pale skin as she pulls her shirt over her head. For the first time, my thoughts are on anything other than the future that's starting to feel like walls closing in around me.

It's the first time I've seen her since I got back from my college break. She's no longer the insecure girl who used to follow her brother and our friends around like a lost puppy. She would already be at university, if the Thompsons believed in that sort of thing for omegas. But the one thing we have in common is that both our lives have been planned out for us from the start.

By other people. People who resent the fact that they didn't get to choose their own paths, and now, instead of breaking the cycle, it's their turn to play warden with their children's futures.

If I'm being honest with myself, the fact that Ophelia has always been a part of that carefully orchestrated future is probably the only reason we haven't ended up here before. The only reason I found myself avoiding her the last time I was home on break.

Because while the idea of taking over as CEO of my family's company one day has always felt like a collar around my neck, and the idea of living their idea of the perfect life is the chain attached to it, Ophelia…

She's the one part of it all that I could have dreamt up for myself. The only part I wish I could cut out of this stiflingly perfect reality and paste into something real. A life where we could both be free.

And that's what makes her dangerous. Because I know that no matter what I dream, the reality is that Ophelia belongs in this world. She belongs to it, just like I do. And there is no world where I can have her without accepting the rest of it.

The corporate job. The black-tie affairs. The death of all my hopes and dreams and aspirations that don't revolve around my family's iron control.

If there's any temptation that could lure me back to the straight and narrow path my parents have planned for me, it isn't the trust fund or the house in the Hamptons.

It's her.

My breath catches in my throat. I've known Ophelia my whole life, but I've never seen her like this. She's always been beautiful, but now, with her dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders and her blue eyes dark with desire, she's breathtaking.

The memory fades as quickly as it came, leaving me disoriented. My fists connect with empty air, and I stumble, nearly losing my balance.

"Whoa there, champ," Tony says, steadying me with a firm grip on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I blink, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the flashback. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost in thought."

Tony eyes me skeptically. "Uh-huh. Well, those thoughts are gonna get you knocked out if you don't start paying attention. Hit the showers, Leon. We're closing up."

"I thought I earned some special treatment when I bought the deed to this place out from under that asshole who was trying to shut you down a few years ago," I say dryly, shucking off my gloves.

"You did. That's why I'm tellin' ya to get out and not throwin' ya out on your ear," he quips.

I can't help but chuckle, too drained to argue. As I unwrap my hands, my phone buzzes in my gym bag. Probably Maddox, checking in again. He's been doing that a lot lately, ever since...

I freeze, staring at the screen. It is Rhys, but it's not a text. He's calling.

My heart rate, already elevated from the workout, kicks into overdrive. Rhys has been as distant as the rest of the pack, aside from Mads. And I can't blame him. He's my bondmate and I've been lying to him all this time. He has more reason to hate me than anyone other than Ophelia.

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