Chapter 52: Knot Happening Again: Chapter 52

The neon sign of the Scent Bar flickers overhead as Troy and I approach the entrance. My stomach churns with dread about the fact that I’m about to turn Ophelia’s world upside down for a second time. And I have to be sure when I do it. I have to have all the answers.

Most importantly, I have to know why.

I’m sure someone put Natalie up to this. Paid her off. Bribed her. Maybe even blackmailed.

I learned early on there were no shortage of people willing to call themselves your friend only to stab you in the back for a little fame or notoriety. As damning as the evidence looks, I still find myself grasping onto the hope that there’s some logical explanation.

It’s probably just wishful thinking, the cynical side of my mind warns. There have been so few people in Ophelia’s life she could count on. I’m desperate to avoid having to tell her that the woman who’s been at her side through some of her biggest challenges has betrayed her.

‘You ready for this?’ Troy mutters, his usual smirk replaced by a grim determination. We both know what this means for our girl. Our omega. Neither of us is looking forward to delivering the news.

I nod, clenching my fists at my sides. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

We push through the doors, the scent of artificial pheromones and alpha desperation hitting me like a wall. My eyes scan the dimly lit interior, searching for that familiar red hair. There. Behind the bar, chatting with a customer as if she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Natalie’s laugh carries across the room, light and carefree. It makes my blood boil. How can she act so normal when she’s been selling out her best friend?

And I know firsthand what kind of person Ophelia is when she cares about someone. Kind. Compassionate. And far too forgiving.

As we approach, her eyes land on us. The smile freezes on her face, a flicker of fear passing through her gaze before she masks it with confusion.

‘Leon? Troy? What are you doing here?’ She tries to keep her voice light, but I can hear the tremor beneath her words.

‘Cut the act, Natalie,’ I growl, leaning against the bar. ‘We know what you’ve been up to.’

She blinks, her brow furrowing. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Troy snorts, pulling out his phone. ‘Really? Then how do you explain these?’

He slides the device across the bar, displaying a series of incriminating screenshots. Screenshots we’ve backed up and sent to the other members of the pack already, just in case.

The color drains from Natalie’s face as she flips through the images. ‘This… this isn’t what it looks like,’ she stammers.

‘Oh?’ I lean in closer, my voice low and dangerous. ‘Then please, enlighten us. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve been selling out your best friend to the highest bidder.’

Natalie’s eyes dart around the bar, searching for an escape route. But Troy and I have her cornered. ‘I… I can explain,’ she says weakly.

‘We’re all ears,’ Troy drawls, his tone deceptively casual. But I can feel the tension radiating off him, matching my own barely contained rage. We may not see eye to eye on pretty much anything, but Ophelia? We’re a united front on that subject.

Natalie takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. ‘Look, you don’t understand. I was just trying to protect Ophelia.’

A harsh laugh escapes me. Does she think that’s convincing? ‘Protect her? By plastering her past all over the tabloids? By ambushing us at every turn?’

The mask slips without any more provocation. Her eyes turn steely, a coldness behind them I’m not used to seeing in an omega’s eyes.

‘It’s your word against mine,’ she hisses.

‘Actually, it’s your word against yours,’ Troy says, his voice dripping with disdain as he waves his phone. ‘Or did you forget about these screenshots already?’

Natalie’s eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. She takes a step back, bumping into the liquor bottles behind her. The clinking of glass seems to snap her out of her momentary shock.

‘I don’t have to explain myself to you,’ she spits, her voice rising. ‘If you don’t leave right now, I’ll have security throw you out.’

I lean in closer, my voice low and dangerous. ‘You owe it to Ophelia to come clean yourself, Natalie. Tell us who put you up to this. Were you bribed? Blackmailed?’

For a split second, I see a flicker of something in her eyes—guilt? Fear? But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a steely resolve.

‘I don’t owe you anything,’ she snarls. ‘Security!’

A burly beta appears at her side, eyeing Troy and me warily. The one I recognize from the time I found Ophelia here. ‘Is there a problem here?’

Natalie puts on a show of distress, her voice trembling. ‘These men are harassing me. Please escort them out.’

The guard gives me a double take. ‘You again,’ he snarls.

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to argue. We can’t afford to make a scene, not with the press already breathing down our necks. I exchange a glance with Troy, seeing the same frustration mirrored in his eyes.

‘We’re leaving,’ I growl, turning on my heel.

As we walk out, I can feel the eyes of the other patrons on us. Whispers follow in our wake.

Great. Just what we need.

More gossip fodder.

The cool night air hits me as we step outside, doing little to calm the rage simmering beneath my skin. I slam my fist against the brick wall, welcoming the sharp pain that shoots through my knuckles.

‘Fuck!’ I spit, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.

Troy leans against the wall beside me, running a hand through his hair. ‘Well, that could’ve gone better.’

I let out a humorless laugh. ‘You think?’

We stand there in silence for a moment, the gravity of the situation settling over us like a heavy blanket. The muffled sounds of the bar drift out into the night, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me.

‘We have to tell her,’ Troy says finally, his voice uncharacteristically somber.

I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the cool brick. ‘I know.’

The thought of breaking Ophelia’s heart all over again makes me feel physically ill. Haven’t I hurt her enough already? But keeping this from her would be even worse. She deserves to know the truth, no matter how painful.

‘How the hell are we supposed to do this?’ I ask, not really expecting an answer.

Troy sighs, pushing off the wall. ‘Carefully. And together. The whole pack needs to be there for her when we drop this bomb.’

I nod, straightening up. He’s right. We need to present a united front, show Ophelia that no matter what, she has us.

All of us.