Page 84 of Knot Happening Again

No. Leon wouldn't. He couldn't. The very thought of it makes me feel sick.

But even if he did… why would he go to the same damn place where Ophelia used to work? What are the odds?

Unless… he found out somehow. Unless that's why he's been so hesitant to meet her.

The thought churns my stomach. I don't want to believe he'd be the kind of alpha to make snap judgments about an omega just because of where she works, but I don't really feel like I know him lately at all.

"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice tight. "There's no chance you could be mistaken?"

"I'm positive, Dr. Carver," the investigator replies, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "I have photographic evidence if you need it."

I shake my head, even though he can't see me. "That won't be necessary," I say quickly. The last thing I want is to see proof of Leon's betrayal. "Thank you for the information."

I end the call, my mind reeling. What the hell is going on? I know Leon. I know him better than anyone. But it's starting to look like he's either seeing another omega without telling the pack, or he's come to some conclusions about Ophelia without even being willing to meet her.

There has to be another explanation. But I'm not as sure of that as I want to be.

The mark on my throat throbs painfully with the sting of betrayal. Something I've never felt before.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm sliding into my car, the leather seats burning hot against my skin. I start the engine, cranking up the AC to full blast. As I pull out of the parking lot, my mind races with possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Maybe Leon's just been going there to drink. To escape whatever's been bothering him lately. But three times in a week? And why wouldn't he just go to a regular bar for that? No, there has to be more to it.

The streets blur past as I navigate through downtown traffic. The Scent Bar is in a part of town I usually avoid—a strip of neon-lit clubs and bars that cater to the seedier side of alpha-omega dynamics. Even when we didn't have an omega, I tended to too many patients who ended up on the wrong side of those dynamics to get anything out of it. As I get closer, the streets become more crowded, filled with people out for an early start to their Friday night.

I pull into the parking lot of the Scent Bar, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. The bar itself is anondescript building, its windows tinted to obscure the interior. The only indication of what goes on inside is the stylized omega symbol glowing in red neon above the door.

And there, leaning against his car in the far corner of the lot, looking cartoonishly out of place in a sea of beaters, is Leon.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. He looks tired, his usually impeccable appearance disheveled. His white hair, normally styled to perfection, is a mess, like he's been running his hands through it constantly. He's scanning the street, his posture tense, like he's waiting for someone.

I park my car and get out, slamming the door harder than necessary. The sound echoes across the lot, causing Leon's head to snap up. His eyes widen in shock when he sees me, a mix of emotions flashing across his face—surprise, guilt, and something that looks a lot like fear.

"Rhys?" he says, his voice cracking slightly. "What are you doing here?"

I laugh, but there's no humor in it. The sound is harsh, bitter, even to my own ears. "Funny," I say, crossing the distance between us. "I was about to ask you the same thing. So this is where you've been?"

Leon runs a hand through his hair, confirming my earlier observation. It's a nervous gesture I've seen a thousand times, usually when he's trying to figure out how to explain something he knows I won't like. "I know what this looks like," he says quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. "But I can explain. It's not what you think."

"Oh, I'd love to hear this explanation," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I can feel my nails digging into my biceps, but I welcome the pain. It helps me focus, keeps me from doing something stupid like grabbing Leon and shaking him until he tells me what the hell is going on. "I'm fascinated to know how you're going to spin this. Is this the real reason you've been soresistant to taking an omega? You're spending your time fucking escorts at the Scent Bar?"

Leon flinches at my words, pain flashing across his face. For a moment, he looks so devastated that I almost want to take it back. Almost. But then I remember the weeks of worry, the unanswered calls, the lies. My expression hardens.

"It's not like that," Leon says, his voice low and urgent. He takes a step toward me, but stops when I instinctively back away. "I swear to you, Rhys. I haven't... I wouldn't do that to you. To the pack." He pauses, swallowing hard before continuing. "But... there is another omega."

The admission hits me like a punch to the gut. I take a step back, my legs suddenly unsteady. "Another omega?" I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. The world seems to tilt around me, everything I thought I knew shifting off its axis.

Leon nods, his eyes pleading. "Please, Rhys," he says, reaching out as if to touch me before thinking better of it and letting his hand fall back to his side. "Let me explain. It's not what you're thinking."

I want to yell, to demand answers right here and now. But I'm acutely aware of where we are, of the eyes that might be watching. Even now, with anger and hurt coursing through me, I'm conscious of our public image. Of what a scene between two alphas might look like to outsiders.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside me. The scent of the city—exhaust fumes, hot asphalt, the lingering odors from the bar—mixes unpleasantly with Leon's familiar scent. It makes my stomach churn.

"Fine," I say finally, my voice cold. "Explain."

Leon hesitates, glancing around nervously. The parking lot is still mostly empty, but there are people walking by on the sidewalk, some of them casting curious glances our way. "I thinkI should tell the whole pack," he says, his voice low. "It affects all of us. Not just you and me."

Frustration wells up inside me, threatening to boil over. After everything, he's still keeping secrets? "Are you serious right now?" I snap, unable to keep the anger from my voice. "The pack is occupied at the moment anyway."

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