Page 52 of Knot Happening Again

Whatever they may be.

As I step out onto the bustling city street, the cool night air hits me like a slap to the face. I take a deep breath, letting it clear my head. Somewhere out there, Ophelia is living her life, unaware that her past is about to come crashing back into it.

CHAPTER 13

OPHELIA

Istand in the foyer of the Carver mansion, my overnight bag clutched tightly in my hand. The polished marble floor gleams beneath my feet, a stark contrast to the worn linoleum of my apartment.

Mace and Rhys flank me, their presence both comforting and overwhelming. My heat is over, leaving me feeling better than I have in years. There's a part of me that doesn't want to leave this cocoon of luxury and care, but reality beckons.

Rhys steps forward, his green eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure you don't want one of us to drive you back?" he asks, his voice soft and warm.

I shake my head, forcing a smile. "No, it's fine. The driver will be here soon. You're all busy, and I don't want to impose."

The truth is, I hate the thought of them seeing where I live. My tiny, run-down apartment would be a harsh reminder of the gulf between our worlds. Better to keep that part of my life separate, hidden away like so many other things.

Mace's deep voice rumbles through the air. "We're never too busy for you, little one." His gray eyes are serious. "I hope you'll consider our offer."

I look between them, my heart clenching. They've already asked me to spend my next heat with them, a tempting proposition that both thrills and terrifies me.

"I'll think about it," I say, the words feeling inadequate.

The truth is, I want to say yes.

I want to dive headfirst into this world they're offering me, to bask in the warmth and care I've experienced over the past few days.

But I'm afraid.

Afraid of getting more attached, of letting my guard down only to have it all ripped away.

And then there's the fact that I still haven't met the other members of their pack. What if they come home, discuss things, and decide they don't want me after all? It's safer not to get my hopes up, to keep my expectations low.

But even as I think this, I know it's too late.

I'm already attached.

The thought of walking away, of never seeing them again, sends a sharp pain through my chest.

The sound of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see Troy approaching, a small gift box in his hands. I hadn't expected him to come see me off, and the sight of him sends a flutter through my stomach.

"What's that?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

Troy smirks, holding out the box. "It's a gift. Open it."

I take the box, my fingers brushing against his. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me, and I have to force myself to focus on opening the gift. Inside, I find a retro Walkman and a mixtape.

Troy's smirk softens into something almost shy. "It's the best way to listen to the classics," he says, his voice teasing but warm. "I want to know what you think next time, Pop Princess."

I smile, realizing that this is his way of saying he wants me to come back. The gesture touches me more than I want to admit.

A car horn sounds outside, and we all turn to look. The sleek black car that brought me here has returned, ready to take me back to my old life.

Rhys sighs, his expression grudging. "Looks like your ride is here," he says. His eyes scan me, full of concern. "Are you sure you have everything?"

I nod, gesturing to my bag. "Everything I came with," I assure him.

Rhys steps forward, pulling me into an embrace. His scent—petrichor and sunlight—envelops me as he nuzzles into my neck, scent marking me. Before I can fully process what's happening, Mace and Troy are there, too, each adding his scent to mine.

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