Page 36 of Knot Happening Again

And the omega who broke them apart.

I soften, moving to put a hand on Troy's shoulder. He flinches at the contact but doesn't pull away. "Ophelia's not Amelia, kid," I say gently. "You'd know that if you gave her a chance."

Come to think of it, maybe their names being similar is part of this.

He shrugs off my touch, but I can see the conflict in his eyes. There's a part of him that wants to believe, that wants to trust. But the scars Amelia left run deep. "I can't risk it," he says, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't go through that again."

Before I can respond, a whimper echoes from upstairs. The sound goes straight to my core, my body responding instinctively to Ophelia's needs. Her heat is spiking again, her scent growing stronger and more enticing by the second.

Troy flinches at the sound, his nostrils flaring as her scent intensifies. I can see the war playing out on his face. Desire versus fear, instinct versus caution. His hands clench at his sides, his whole body rigid with tension.

"You're afraid," I begin, turning back to him. "I get that. And I'm not gonna tell you what to do, but I do know out of all my regrets in this life, fear's been behind all of 'em." I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let Ophelia become one of your regrets."

With that, I load up the tray with a feast fit for our omega. The aroma of bacon and eggs mingles with the sweet scent of fresh fruit, making my stomach growl. But it's nothing compared to the intoxicating fragrance wafting down from upstairs.

I lumber up the stairs, careful not to spill anything. As I approach the nest, Ophelia's scent grows stronger, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. My body responds instantly, cock hardening in my sweatpants.

"Breakfast," I announce, pushing open the door with my foot.

Ophelia's sprawled across the bed, skin flushed and glistening with sweat. Rhys is between her legs, face buried in her pussy. The sight of the omega's face painted with her slick makes my mouth water, and for a moment, I forget about the tray in my hands.

"Mace," Ophelia whimpers, reaching for me. Her blue eyes are hazy with lust, pupils blown wide.

Fucking hell.

I set the tray on the nightstand and climb onto the bed. "Eat first, little one," I rumble, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. "You need your strength."

She pouts, but doesn't argue. Rhys pulls away, his eyes glazed and his lips glistening. "Listen to the big guy," he says, voice husky. "Can't have you passing out on us. But after breakfast, I'm going back to feasting on you."

"Get in line, Doc," I say, going over to help Ophelia sit up, propping her against the headboard. Her skin is hot to the touch, the fever of her heat burning through her. I grab a piece of bacon, holding it to her lips. "Open up."

She looks surprised, but obeys, taking a small bite. As she chews, I can see the hunger in her eyes, and it's not just for food. But I stand firm, continuing to feed her small bites of everything on the tray.

"I can eat on my own," she mumbles, her face flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"Sure you can, but where's the fun in that?" I ask. I can tell she's not used to being taken care of, but she doesn't seem to mind. And I have to admit, having her to fuss over and spoil scratches some itch buried deep inside my psyche.

Rhys helps, offering her sips of water and orange juice between bites. We work in tandem, our focus solely on taking care of our omega. It feels right, natural, like we've been doing this for years instead of hours.

"Good girl," I praise as Ophelia finishes the last bite of toast. Her cheeks flush at the words, a soft purr escaping her throat.

The sound goes straight to my cock, making it throb painfully. I shift, trying to adjust myself without being too obvious. But from the knowing smirk on Rhys's face, I'm not successful.

"Feeling better?" Rhys asks, his hand trailing up Ophelia's thigh.

She nods, licking her lips. "Thank you," she says softly, looking between us. There's a vulnerability in her eyes that makes my heart clench. "For everything."

Before I can respond, the door creaks open. We all turn to see Troy standing in the doorway, looking uncertain. His gaze flicks between us, lingering on Ophelia's naked form, and he swallows audibly.

"Hey. Can I join you?" he asks, a note of hesitation in his voice.

Ophelia's eyes widen in surprise, and she takes on that guarded energy she wears like a shroud, but she nods. "Sure."

Troy hesitates for a moment, then steps into the room. As he approaches the bed, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the wariness in his eyes. But there's something else there too.

Hope, maybe.

He's willing to try.

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