Page 51 of Knot Happening Again

That's what Ishoulddo.

But it doesn't matter.

It's all a fucking lie.

Without her, without Ophelia, it means nothing.

I don't give a shit if this other omega is my scent match. She's not her. She's not my mate. Not the omega I started to mark so many years ago. Not the one I've been searching for.

I stare at Ophelia's picture for a long moment, tracing every detail of her face with my eyes. She looks so different, yet so achingly familiar. I remember the first time I saw her, a quiet teenager with a shy smile. I remember the last time, too—a beautiful woman sprawled across my bed, hair mussed and lips swollen from my kisses, looking at me like I hung the moon.

I close the picture. Can't look at it for another moment without taking action.

I know what I have to do.

I'm not going home yet.

I have a visit to pay first.

Pushing off the wall, I head back into the bar. The noise and heat hit me like a physical force after the relative quiet of thealley. I scan the room, quickly spotting Maddox's distinctive suit. He's deep in conversation with a group of fighters, but his eyes find mine immediately. His brow furrows in concern as he takes in my expression.

I make my way over to him, murmuring apologies as I push past the crowd. Maddox excuses himself from his conversation, meeting me halfway.

"Everything okay?" he asks, his voice low. He's known me long enough to read the tension in my shoulders, the tightness around my eyes.

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. After a moment, I manage to force out the words. "We need to cut the trip short. I've got to get back."

Maddox's eyes widen in surprise, a flicker of alarm crossing his face. "Is it Rhys? The pack?"

"No, nothing like that," I assure him quickly. The last thing I need is him worrying about the others. "It's... personal. I'll explain later."

He studies me for a moment, his sharp blue eyes taking in every detail. I can see the questions forming, the concern building. But he knows me well enough to recognize when I'm not ready to talk.

"Alright," he says finally, nodding. "I'll make the arrangements. We can be on a plane by morning."

"Thanks," I say, clapping him on the shoulder. The relief in my voice is palpable. Maddox is good at his job—too good, sometimes. He could have insisted on finishing the tour, on fulfilling our obligations. But he trusts me, trusts that I wouldn't ask this without good reason. "I'm going to head back to the hotel. Got some things to take care of."

He nods again, already pulling out his phone. "I'll text you the details once I've got everything sorted."

I turn to leave, but his voice stops me. "Leon?"

I look back, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Whatever it is," he says, his expression serious, "we've got your back. You know that, right?"

A lump forms in my throat, unexpected emotion welling up. I manage a nod before turning away, not trusting myself to speak.

As I walk out of the bar, my mind is already racing ahead. I need to find Ophelia, to see her face to face. To apologize, to try to make things right. Even if she hates me, even if she never wants to see me again, I owe her that much.

And then...

Then I'll go home.

I'll face Rhys and the others.

I'll tell them everything, lay my sins bare and let them decide if they still even want me in the fucking pack. The thought makes my stomach churn, but I push it aside. I've been carrying this guilt for too long, letting it poison everything good in my life.

It's time to stop running from my past. Time to face the consequences of my actions.

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