Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

I fold the last of my clothes, tucking them into my suitcase with a sigh. The past three days have been… indescribable.

A slice of paradise I never thought I’d experience.

But now, as I zip up my bag, reality crashes back in.

‘All packed?’ Maddox asks, leaning against the doorframe.

I nod, not trusting my voice. My throat feels tight, constricted by emotions I can’t quite name.

‘You okay, Effy?’ He steps into the room, concern etched across his handsome features.

‘I’m fine,’ I lie, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.

Maddox raises an eyebrow. ‘Bullshit. I know you better than that.’

I turn away, busying myself with straightening the already-made bed. ‘It’s nothing. Just… thinking.’

‘About?’ he presses, moving closer.

I bite my lip, debating whether to open up. But Maddox has a way of worming past my defenses. ‘Leon,’ I admit quietly. ‘And… all of this.’

Understanding flashes in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. I lean into him, grateful for the silent support.

‘I know it’s stupid,’ I mumble into his chest. ‘I shouldn’t miss him. I shouldn’t want…’

‘It’s not stupid,’ Maddox interrupts gently. ‘Your feelings are valid. Even the complicated ones.’

I pull back, wiping at my eyes. ‘But how can I miss someone who hurt me so badly? How can I want to be part of something I’ve spent years convincing myself I don’t need?’

Maddox cups my face, his touch tender. ‘Because you’re human, sweetheart. And humans are messy, complicated creatures.’

Before I can respond, Rhys appears in the doorway. ‘Car’s ready to take us to the airport,’ he announces, then pauses, taking in the scene before him. ‘Everything okay?’

I paste on another fake smile. ‘Yeah. Just saying goodbye to this place.’

Rhys doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he grabs our bags. ‘Let’s head out then. Don’t want to miss our flight.’

The drive to the airport is quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I stare out the window, watching the lush forest give way to urban sprawl. With each mile, the weight in my chest grows heavier.

At the airport, we breeze through security and board our private jet. The luxury that had awed me on the way here now feels hollow. I curl up in my seat, pretending to be asleep to avoid conversation.

As the plane takes off, I can’t help but think about the last time I flew. The nervous excitement, the anticipation of what awaited me. Now, all I feel is a confusing mix of emotions I can’t untangle.

Part of me almost longs for the simplicity of my life before this whirlwind week. The routine of work, the numbness I’d cultivated to protect myself.

But a larger part aches for what I’ve tasted.

The warmth of pack bonds, the safety of strong arms around me, the feeling of belonging.

Even if there’s still a little voice in the back of my head that says I don’t deserve any of it.

I think of Leon, of the raw need in his eyes when he first scented me. The gentleness of his touch as he explored my body. The way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

But then I remember the cold emptiness of waking up alone. Abandoned. The agony of a partial bond, constantly yearning for completion. The years of anger and bitterness that followed.

What if it’s the same way with the others?

What if I’m building myself up to such great heights only for it all to come crashing down harder than ever?

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing sleep to come and give me a reprieve from my tumultuous thoughts. But rest eludes me, leaving me trapped in a limbo of what-ifs and maybes.

Hours pass in a haze. I’m vaguely aware of Maddox and Rhys talking quietly, their voices a soothing background hum. At some point, a blanket is draped over me, and a gentle hand smooths my hair.

When we finally land, I’m exhausted but no closer to sorting out the mess in my head. We disembark, and I blink in the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport.

‘Home sweet home,’ Maddox quips, but there’s an undercurrent of tension in his voice.

I nod numbly, following them through the terminal. As we approach the exit, I steel myself for whatever comes next. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greets us.

My breath catches in my throat as we step out of the airport. There, standing in a cluster near the curb, are Leon, Mace, and Troy. My heart does a complicated little dance in my chest, equal parts joy and trepidation.

They’re holding a sign. A honest-to-god, handmade ‘Welcome Home’ sign, complete with what looks like… crayon drawings?

Before I can process this surreal sight, Mace and Troy are rushing toward me. Mace’s burly arms wrap around me, lifting me clean off my feet. The scent of him—warm and sugary—fills my nose, and I find myself melting into his embrace.

‘Missed you, little one,’ he rumbles against my hair.

Troy’s there a second later, sandwiching me between them. ‘About fucking time you got back, princess,’ he grouses, but there’s no heat in it. His hands are gentle as they stroke down my back.

Over their shoulders, I catch sight of Leon. He hangs back, hands shoved in his pockets, but there’s a soft smile playing on his lips.

‘Welcome home,’ he says, and something in my chest tightens at the words.

Home. Is that what this is now?

‘How was the trip?’ Troy asks as they finally set me down.

I smooth my hair, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. ‘It was great,’ I say, and it’s the truth. It was bliss. But also torture. ‘I missed you guys.’

‘We missed you, too,’ Troy says, cutting a hand through my hair.

My eyes drift back to the sign, and I can’t help but grin. ‘This is so sweet,’ I say, gesturing to it. Then I squint, tilting my head. ‘Is that… is that a dick?’

Troy bursts out laughing, elbowing Mace in the ribs. ‘I told you so, man!’

Mace’s cheeks flush a deep red. ‘It was supposed to be a person,’ he grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘I’m not the creative one.’Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

A laugh bubbles up in my chest, genuine and warm. I stretch up on my toes, pressing a kiss to Mace’s bearded cheek. ‘I’ve been missing your dick,’ I purr in his ear, delighting in the way his blush deepens. ‘So I thought it was an invitation.’

He sputters for a moment before recovering. ‘Well, you know what they say. Art is open to interpretation.’

We pile into a couple of SUVs, Mace and Troy flanking me in the backseat while Rhys takes the wheel. Leon and Maddox head off in another car, and I try not to read too much into that.

Troy’s arm drapes over my shoulders, and I find myself leaning into him, breathing in his familiar scent. Mace’s hand rests on my thigh, a warm, grounding weight.

‘You hungry, sweetheart?’ Mace asks, giving my leg a gentle squeeze.

My stomach growls in response, and I realize I haven’t eaten since we left the mountains. ‘Starving,’ I admit.

Mace’s face lights up. ‘Good thing I’ve got food waiting at home. Made all your favorites.’

The thought of Mace in the kitchen, cooking for me, sends a warm flutter through my chest. It’s so… domestic. So unlike anything I’ve experienced in my life before.

As we drive, the city gives way to lush, manicured lawns and sprawling estates. Finally, we pull up to the gated entrance of the pack’s mansion. It’s a sight that should intimidate me—all gleaming windows and imposing stonework—but as we roll up the driveway, I’m hit with an unexpected feeling.

Relief.

Like I can finally exhale after holding my breath for days.

The cars come to a stop, and suddenly I’m being ushered out, surrounded by a whirlwind of scents and touches and voices. Mace’s arm around my waist, Troy’s hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the front door.

I step over the threshold, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.

This feels like home.

The realization leaves me reeling. How is this possible? How can this place, these people, feel more like home than anywhere else I’ve been in years?

‘You okay?’ Troy murmurs in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

I nod, not trusting my voice. He gives me a look that says he doesn’t quite believe me, but he doesn’t push.

We make our way to the kitchen, where the aroma of Mace’s cooking has my mouth watering. The island is laden with dishes. A feast spread out before us.

‘Holy shit, Mace,’ I breathe, taking it all in. ‘You didn’t have to do all this.’

He shrugs, but I can see the pleased smile on his cheeks beneath his beard. ‘Wanted to,’ he says simply.

As we settle in to eat, the conversation flows easily. They pepper me with questions about the trip, and I find myself relaxing, sharing stories and laughing at their reactions.

It feels so normal.

Like I’ve done this a hundred times before.

But there’s an undercurrent of tension, too. A weight to some of the glances exchanged, a hesitation in certain topics. It feels like they’re keeping something from me, and I try not to let my mind wander to all the unsettling possibilities the way it wants to.

I catch Leon watching me from across the table, his expression unreadable. Our eyes lock for a moment, and I feel that familiar pull, that ache in my chest that I’ve spent years trying to ignore.

How did I end up in this impossible situation?

A month ago, I was a jaded escort with a chip on her shoulder. Now? Now I’m sitting in a mansion, surrounded by alphas who look at me like I’m something precious.

It’s terrifying.

Exhilarating.

Utterly overwhelming.

As the meal winds down, exhaustion hits me like a freight train. The stress of travel, the emotional whiplash of the past few days… it all catches up at once.

Rhys notices first, ever observant. ‘I think it’s time we let Ophelia get some rest,’ he says. He looks across the table at his bondmate. ‘But first… I think Leon and the others have something to show you.’

‘Oh?’ I ask, unable to hide my wariness.

Rhys takes my hand, helping me up from the table. My heart races as Troy takes out a blindfold and covers my eyes.

‘No peeking,’ he says, a hint of mischievousness in his tone that keeps me from being properly anxious. The darkness is disorienting, and I stumble slightly as they guide me forward.

‘Easy there, princess,’ Troy murmurs, his breath warm against my ear, his hand steady around my arm. ‘We’ve got you.’

I feel Mace’s large hand on my lower back, steadying me. The mix of their scents wraps around me like a cocoon.

We’re moving upstairs now, I think. The carpet beneath my feet changes to hardwood, and I hear a door open.

‘Okay.” Leon’s voice comes from somewhere in front of me. ‘You can look now.’

Troy unfastens the blindfold, and I blink, adjusting to the light. We’re in a part of the house I’ve never seen before, standing in front of a door I thought led to Leon’s gym.

‘Go on,’ Rhys urges gently from behind me. ‘Open it.’

My hand trembles as I reach for the doorknob. I push it open, step inside, and freeze.

It’s not a gym.

It’s a studio.

A fully furnished, beautifully decorated art studio.

I spin in a slow circle, taking it all in.

Easels stand ready, their blank canvases waiting. Shelves line one wall, stocked with every type of paint, brush, and medium I could ever want. There’s a pottery wheel, shelves upon shelves of clay and supplies… even a kiln in the corner by the massive windows that take up one far wall, overlooking the beauty of the gardens below. A drafting table sits by the window, bathed in natural light. There’s even a nest by the window, covered in soft blankets and comfortable pillows.

My mind can’t seem to process what I’m seeing.

‘But what about your gym?’ I ask, confused, looking back at Leon.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. ‘It was collecting dust. And way bigger than it needed to be.’

I shake my head, disbelieving. ‘You gave it up? For… this?’

‘It’s no big deal,’ he insists. ‘The others helped design it and get it finished before we got back.’

Realization dawns and I turn to Rhys and Maddox. ‘That’s why you took me on that trip?’

Rhys nods. ‘Partially. We also figured you could use a little vacation after everything.’

I wander around the room, speechless, running my fingers over the smooth wood of the easels, the cool metal of the supply carts.

It’s perfect.

Everything I could have dreamed of and more.

But my guard is still up. I can’t let myself get swept away by this gesture, no matter how grand.

‘Do you like it?’ Mace asks, his voice hopeful.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

Emotions clog my throat.

Gratitude and confusion.

Longing and fear.

‘We’ll let you explore,’ Rhys says, sensing my need for space. He herds the others out, leaving me alone with Leon.

For a moment, we just stand there, the silence stretching between us like a living thing.

‘Thank you,’ I finally manage. ‘For everything. But…’

Leon holds up a hand, cutting me off. ‘I know it doesn’t change anything.’

I blink, surprised by his directness.

‘It’s not about that,’ he continues. ‘We all just want you to be comfortable. To know you have a place here. That this is your home.’

Home. There’s that word again. It settles in my chest, warm and terrifying.

‘I don’t expect you to come running back into my arms now or ever,’ Leon says softly. ‘I haven’t even begun to make amends. But I will spend the rest of my life trying.’

His words hit me like a physical blow. I turn away, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes.

‘Why?’ I whisper, staring out the window at the manicured grounds below. ‘Why go to all this trouble for something that’s never going to happen?’

I hear him step closer, but he doesn’t touch me. ‘Because you deserve it, Effy. Because I want to give you everything I should have given you years ago. No strings attached.’

Tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them back furiously. ‘And what if I don’t want it? What if I can’t…’

‘Then that’s okay too,’ he says gently. ‘This is yours either way. You can use it or not use it.’

I turn to face him, searching his expression for any hint of deception. But all I see is open honesty and a deep, aching regret.

‘I don’t know if I can trust this,’ I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘Trust you.’

Leon nods, accepting my words without argument. ‘I know. And that’s okay. But I’ll try to earn it, day by day, for as long as it takes.’

Something inside me cracks at his words. A tiny fissure in the walls I’ve built around my heart. I build it right back up, not willing to go there again.

‘Even if it’s forever?’ I ask.

He gives me a small smile that would break my heart all over again, if there were anything left to shatter. ‘Always.’