Chapter 23: Knot Happening Again: Chapter 23

My frustration is reaching a boiling point.

I’ve been at this for hours, driving from one of Leon’s usual haunts to another, each empty location fueling my anger and worry. Now I’m in the parking lot of Leon’s old gym, looking harried in the gym’s glass doors.

Disheveled red hair, dark circles under my eyes, a day’s worth of stubble on my jaw. I barely recognize myself. This isn’t me. I’m usually the composed one, the voice of reason in our pack. But Leon’s disappearance has shaken me to my core. Especially when our omega needs him the most.

Where the hell is he?

I pull out my phone, the screen hot from sitting in my pocket. My thumb hovers over Leon’s contact for a moment before I hit call. The familiar ringtone echoes in my ear once, twice, three times before switching to voicemail. Just like the last dozen times I’ve tried.

‘Leon, it’s me again,’ I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. ‘I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to talk. The pack needs you. I need you. Please, just… call me back.’

I hang up, knowing it’s futile. If he hasn’t responded to my other messages, why would this one be any different? I lean against my car, the metal hot against my back even through my shirt. The parking lot is nearly empty, just a few cars belonging to the dedicated gym-goers who don’t let the unpredictable weather deter them from their workouts.

As I’m about to admit defeat and head home, my phone rings. I snatch it up, heart leaping, but it’s not Leon’s name on the screen. It’s a number I don’t recognize. With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, I answer.

‘Dr. Carver,’ a gruff voice comes through the speaker. It takes me a moment to place it—the private investigator I hired to track Leon down the other day.

I hate that I’ve resorted to this, but I’m out of options.

‘Yes, this is he,’ I reply, straightening up. ‘Do you have something?’

‘I do,’ the investigator confirms. ‘Your friend has been spotted at a rather… infamous location downtown.’

My stomach drops, a cold feeling spreading through my chest despite the heat. ‘Where?’ I ask, dreading the answer.

‘The Scent Bar,’ he says, his voice heavy with implication. ‘He’s been seen there three nights in the last week.’

The words hit me like a physical blow. The Scent Bar?

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 a nondescript 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 so resistant 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 think I 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.’

Leon looks like I’ve punched him in the stomach. All the color drains from his face, his eyes widening in what looks like panic. ‘Occupied?’ he repeats, his voice strained. ‘Is it… is it the omega you met at Temporary Bonds?’

‘Yes,’ I say, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. The reminder of Ophelia, waiting for us at home, sends a pang through my chest. She needs us—needs me—and I’m here dealing with… whatever this is. ‘Which you would know if you were answering your damn phone or checking your messages. She’s in heat and she needs us, Leon. Our scent match needs us. Not some random omega you picked up at a bar.’

Leon pales even further, if that’s possible. He grips the side of his car like he needs it to stay upright. ‘She’s there now?’ he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘At the house?’

I nod, my patience wearing thin. Every moment we spend here is a moment I’m not with Ophelia, not helping her through her heat. Not to mention leaving the others to handle it without me. ‘Yes, and I don’t want to leave her for long. So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going back to the house. You have ten minutes to explain yourself to the pack. After that, you either get your shit together and join us, or you leave until her heat is over. Your choice.’

Leon looks like he wants to argue. His mouth opens and closes a few times, but no sound comes out. Finally, he nods grudgingly. ‘Okay,’ he says, his voice barely audible. ‘Let’s go.’

I turn and walk back to my car without another word, not bothering to see if he’s following. As I slide into the driver’s seat, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the rearview mirror. I barely recognize the man staring back at me. My eyes are hard, my jaw clenched tight. I look… angry. Hurt. Betrayed.

And that’s exactly what I am.

I start the engine, the familiar purr doing nothing to calm my nerves. In my mirror, I see Leon getting into his own car. As we pull out of the parking lot, I can’t help but wonder what explanation he could possibly have that would make any of this okay. What could be so important that he’d risk everything we’ve built together?

The drive back to the house is tense, the silence in my car oppressive. I keep glancing in my rearview mirror, making sure Leon is still following. Part of me is afraid he’ll turn off, disappear again. But he stays right behind me, his headlights a constant presence in my mirror.

As we wind through the city streets, my mind races. What am I going to tell the others? How do I explain Leon’s behavior without revealing where I found him? And what about Ophelia? How will she react to Leon’s sudden appearance in the middle of her heat?

The familiar streets of our neighborhood come into view, the large houses and manicured lawns a stark contrast to the gritty downtown area we just left. As we pull into our driveway, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever’s about to happen.

I park and get out of the car, not waiting for Leon as I head toward the house. I can hear his footsteps behind me, quick and uneven like he’s nervous. Good. He should be.

As I reach for the door handle, I pause, turning to face Leon. He looks terrible up close—dark circles under his eyes, his usually pristine white hair disheveled. For a moment, I feel a pang of concern. Whatever’s going on with him, it’s clearly taking a toll.

‘Ten minutes,’ I remind him, my voice cold. ‘That’s all you get.’

Leon nods, swallowing hard. ‘I understand,’ he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

I push open the door, steeling myself for whatever comes next. I have no idea what Leon’s going to say, but I know one thing for certain: after this, nothing will ever be the same.