Chapter 44: Knot Happening Again: Chapter 44

The flickering light from the TV casts shadows across Ophelia’s face, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the arch of her brow. I can’t focus on the movie. My eyes keep drifting to her, drawn like a magnet to steel.

She shifts in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on her forehead. The air grows thick with her scent, ocean blue and bliss.

My mouth waters.

Her scent has always been a siren’s song that haunts me, even in my sleep, and now that I’ve marked her, now that I’ve been with her—with anyone—for the first time in seven years, that hasn’t changed. If anything, the longing has only grown more intense.

But I know that no matter what my inner alpha thinks, the completed mark on her neck doesn’t mean things have truly changed between us. Only that now, I can finally take the burden that was never hers to bear.

And if she wants to…

She can crush me the way I deserve.

Rhys notices too. His nostrils flare, green eyes widening as he glances from Ophelia to me.

‘Effy,’ he says softly. ‘Are you feeling okay?’

She blinks, looking dazed. ‘I… I don’t know. I feel strange.’

Maddox leans forward, concern etched on his face. ‘Strange how?’

‘Hot,’ she murmurs. ‘And… tingly.’

Realization dawns. My heart races. ‘You’re going into heat,’ I say, my voice rougher than I intend.

Ophelia’s eyes widen in panic. ‘No, that’s impossible. It’s not…’

But her scent betrays her words. It grows stronger by the second, filling the room with pheromones that make my head spin.

‘You’re newly marked,’ Rhys murmurs thoughtfully. ‘Even if you’re not due for a heat yet, that can throw things out of whack. Come on,’ he says gently. ‘Let’s get you into the nest.’

We all spring into action.

Rhys helps Ophelia to her feet while Maddox rushes to prepare the nest. I stand to him, refusing to hover uselessly, and plan to start collecting fresh linens and blankets even though I know damn well I’m not going to be joining them. But I can keep watch from a distance. Make sure she has what she needs, and the others have what they need to tend to our mate properly.

Their mate, I remind myself.

As we guide her up the stairs, Ophelia stumbles. I catch her instinctively, my arm wrapping around her waist. She gasps at the contact, her skin burning through the thin fabric of her shirt.

‘I don’t understand,’ she whispers. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Because of me, because of my selfish actions years ago, her heats have been agony. The knowledge twists in my chest, sharp and painful.

And now, this is the first heat she isn’t suffering through. Because I finally did what I should have done from the very fucking beginning.

‘I’m sorry,’ I murmur. ‘I’m so fucking sorry, Effy.’

The name I used to call her slips out without a word and I wince internally, waiting for her to call me on it.

She looks at me, blue eyes clouded with confusion and the haze of impending heat. For a moment, I think she might say something. Or slap me. I’d deserve that. But then Rhys ushers her into the nest, and the moment passes.

We divide tasks quickly. Maddox volunteers for bath duty, promising to add soothing oils to the water. Rhys pulls out his phone to text Mace and Troy, knowing they’ll want to cut things short and rush home.

‘They’ll want to know,’ he explains when Ophelia protests.

‘I’ll go on a food and drink run,’ I offer. ‘What do you need?’

Maddox grins. ‘All the junk food. Chips, chocolate, ice cream⁠—’

‘She needs proper nutrition,’ Rhys argues. ‘Protein, complex carbs⁠—’

‘Both,’ Ophelia interrupts. ‘I want both. And especially macaroons.’ She glances at Rhys. ‘They’re fruit flavored.’

He sighs. ‘Give the lady what she wants.’

I nod, committing her words to memory. ‘Macaroons. You got it. I’ll be back soon.’

The cool night air is a shock to my system as I step outside. I take deep breaths, trying to clear my head of Ophelia’s intoxicating scent.

It doesn’t work.

The grocery store is blessedly empty this late at night. I fill my cart with a mix of healthy options and indulgent treats. Protein bars and fresh fruit sit next to bags of chips and pints of ice cream.

And most importantly, macaroons in every flavor, just in case she decides likes one more than the others.

I grab bottles of water and sports drinks, too, knowing how important hydration will be. The blue one she likes, too.

All Ophelia’s favorite foods.

As I load the bags into my car, my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Mace.

I type out a quick reply.

The drive home feels endless even though the store isn’t far at all. My fingers drum against the steering wheel, impatience coursing through me. I want to be there, to help, to make things right.

But I know I can’t.

Not really.

Not after everything I’ve done. The best thing I can do for her is just make sure the others don’t have to worry about anything other than taking care of her.

But Ophelia has been more distant since I completed the mark than ever, if that’s even possible. There’s no way she’s going to want me to help her through this heat.

I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

The house is quiet when I return, but the air is thick with pheromones. Ophelia’s scent has intensified, sweet and ripe and mouthwatering. My body responds instantly, a low growl building in my chest.

I force it down, clenching my jaw as I carry the groceries to the kitchen. Maddox is there, filling a tray with drinks.

‘How is she?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

He gives me a knowing look. ‘Settled in the nest. Rhys is with her now. Troy just got here, and Mace is on his way.’

I nod, unpacking the bags with more force than necessary. ‘Good. That’s good.’

Maddox’s hand on my arm stills my movements. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine,’ I grunt.

He raises an eyebrow. ‘Bullshit. Talk to me.’

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. ‘I just… I hate that I can’t help her. That I’m the reason she’s been suffering all these years. And now, she’s finally having a normal heat because of the mark.’

‘You can help her,’ Maddox says gently. ‘You’re here now. Better late than never, right?’

The only response I can give is a pained grimace.

‘Hey,’ he says, growing serious. ‘You’re still a part of this pack.’

‘Am I?’ I ask bitterly. ‘She can barely look at me most days. And now…’

Now her heat is filling the house, calling to something primal inside me. The alpha in me wants to claim her, to bury myself in her scent and never come up for air.

‘She needs time,’ Maddox says. ‘You both do. But you’re trying, Leon. You’ve proved that over the last few months. That counts for something.’

‘It’s not enough,’ I mutter, echoing the mantra I’ve repeated for seven years.

I’m halfway through loading the tray when Maddox’s phone chimes. He glances at the screen and lets out a long-suffering groan. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, pausing with a bag of chips in my hand.

Maddox rolls his eyes. ‘It’s just Mace. The big guy was in such a hurry to get home, he locked his keys in the car when he stopped at the pharmacy to pick up the meds Rhys asked him to get for her. Again.’

I can’t help but chuckle. It’s such a Mace thing to do. ‘So what now?’

‘I’ll go pick him up,’ Maddox says, already grabbing his jacket. ‘Can you take the food upstairs?’

My heart skips a beat. ‘Yeah, sure. No problem.’

As Maddox heads out, I finish arranging the snacks and drinks on the tray. My hands shake slightly as I lift it, Ophelia’s scent growing stronger with each step toward the stairs.

I pause outside the nest room, taking a deep breath to steady myself. The door’s ajar, and I nudge it open with my foot.

The sight before me stops me dead in my tracks.

Troy’s on his knees at the foot of the bed, face buried between Ophelia’s thighs. Her head is thrown back, raven hair spilling across the pillows. Rhys is at the head of the bed, kissing her deeply, swallowing her moans.

I freeze, unable to move, unable to look away. Ophelia’s scent hits me like a freight train, ocean and bliss and pure, unadulterated need. My body responds instantly, cock hardening painfully in my jeans.

Rhys breaks the kiss, green eyes flicking to me. ‘Right on time,’ he says, voice dry but tinged with arousal.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to speak. ‘I’ll just… put these down and give you some privacy.’

‘No!’ Ophelia’s voice is breathy, desperate. Her blue eyes lock onto mine, heavy-lidded and glazed with heat. ‘Stay. Please.’

She nods toward the chair across the room, and I move on autopilot. Setting the tray down on a nearby table, I sink into the chair, my entire body thrumming with tension.

My breath catches in my throat.

Is this her giving me a chance?

Or is it some kind of twisted punishment?

Either way, I’m staying.

Troy lifts his head, lips glistening. ‘You sure about this, princess?’

Ophelia nods, reaching for him. ‘Yes. I want… I need…’

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. We all know what she needs. What her body is crying out for.

As Troy slides up her body, positioning himself between her legs, I grip the arms of the chair so hard my knuckles turn white. I should leave. I shouldn’t be here, watching this. But I can’t make myself move.

Ophelia’s back arches as Troy enters her, a low moan escaping her lips. Rhys captures the sound with his mouth, kissing her deeply as Troy starts to move.

I watch, transfixed, as they worship her. Troy’s hips snap forward in a steady rhythm, while Rhys’ hands roam her body, teasing and caressing. Ophelia writhes between them, eyes rolling back into her head as she moans.

My own arousal is painful now, straining against the confines of my jeans. I want nothing more than to join them, to bury myself in Ophelia’s heat, to taste her skin, to make her cry out my name.

But I can’t.

I’ve lost that right.

It happened twice, and it’ll probably never happen again. So I stay in the chair, a silent observer to their passion. My hand twitches, eager to at least touch myself to take off some of the edge, but I won’t even allow that.

I don’t deserve relief.

Hell, since I completed the mark, I haven’t been able to jerk myself off at all. Everything pales in comparison to her warm, wet heat.

I’ve tasted heaven and I can’t go back.

Ophelia’s moans grow louder, more desperate. Her hands clutch at Troy’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

‘More,’ she gasps. ‘Please, I need more.’

Troy growls, picking up the pace. Rhys moves down, taking one of Ophelia’s nipples into his mouth. She cries out, her body trembling.

I can smell her arousal, sweet and heady. It mingles with the scents of Troy and Rhys, creating a potent cocktail that makes my head spin.

I dig my nails into my palms, using the pain to anchor myself.

Ophelia’s climax hits her suddenly, her back arching off the bed as she screams in pleasure. Troy follows soon after, burying his face in her neck as his knot sinks deep into her and he comes. Spurts of hot, white liquid flow from the base of his knot, trickling onto the sheets, and I’ve never been more envious of anything my entire life than I am of him at that moment.

My own knot throbs against my jeans in protest of the denial, and I shift in the chair, trying to get more comfortable. But I can’t bring myself to look away.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing. Of panting and growling and Ophelia’s soft moans.

It takes a while for Troy’s knot to go down, but in the meantime, Rhys is deepening their kiss, stroking her pert, creamy breasts, teasing her nipples between his fingers until they’re tight peaks.

I watch it all, my jaw clenched so tight I feel like it’s going to snap. When Troy finally pulls out, a rush of his seed spilling onto the blankets, Rhys takes his place but flips Ophelia onto her stomach.

Just in time for Mace and Maddox to walk through the door.

‘Whoa,’ the big guy breathes, taking in the scene in front of him with the same hunger in his gaze that’s become my torment.

‘Just in time,’ Ophelia pants. ‘I need one of you in my mouth. Now.’

‘I rescued his ass, so I call dibs,’ Maddox says, darting past Mace before he can even respond.

The bigger alpha growls, dropping into the empty chair beside me, grumbling about cocky betas. I give him a sympathetic look.

‘I’m gonna go grab us a few bottles of water,’ Troy pants, his eyes still pleasure glazed as he pulls on a pair of boxers. ‘Long night ahead.’

Longer than any night in my entire fucking life.

I don’t know how long I sit there, watching as they take turns pleasuring Ophelia. Time loses all meaning, measured only in the rise and fall of her cries, the ebb and flow of her scent.

Through it all, I remain in the chair, a silent sentinel because she wants me there. Because I can’t bring myself to tear away. My arousal is a constant ache, my lust a restless presence beneath my skin.

But I don’t move.

I don’t speak.

I just watch.

Because this is my punishment. To see what I could have had, what I threw away. To know that Ophelia is finally experiencing a heat without pain, but not with me.

As the night wears on, exhaustion starts to set in. Ophelia’s movements become slower, her cries softer. The others take turns with me getting her water, feeding her small bites of food.

I stand, my joints protesting after hours of stillness. ‘I’ll get more supplies,’ I mutter, needing an excuse to leave, to breathe air that isn’t thick with sex and pheromones that are driving me wild.

But as I reach the door, Ophelia’s voice stops me. ‘Leon.’

I turn, meeting her gaze. She looks utterly debauched, hair a mess, skin flushed and marked with love bites. But her eyes are clear, focused on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch.

‘Thank you,’ she says softly. ‘For staying.’

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

As I slip out of the room, closing the door behind me, I lean against the wall, taking deep breaths.

I don’t know what this means. I don’t know if anything has changed between us. But for the first time in years, I feel a flicker of hope.

Maybe there’s a chance for redemption after all.