Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

I can’t help but stare at Ophelia as she sleeps, mesmerized by the way the warm afternoon sun plays off her raven hair, highlighting the soft curves of her body. She’s curled up in the center of the massive nest, surrounded by a tangle of silk sheets and plush pillows.

I shift in the armchair where I’ve been keeping watch, my muscles protesting after hours of sitting still. The room is thick with the scent of sex and pheromones, a heady mixture that makes my head spin. Ophelia’s heat scent—jasmine and sea air—dominates everything, calling to something primal deep inside me.

Part of me still can’t believe I’m here, that I actually joined them last night. After spending most of the first night holed up in my studio, drowning my conflicted feelings in music and whiskey, I finally gave in to the pull of Ophelia’s scent.

And fuck, it was intense.

Better than anything I’ve ever experienced.

But now, in the quiet aftermath, doubt creeps back in. This is dangerous territory. I’ve been down this road before, let myself get swept up in the intoxicating allure of an omega, only to have my heart ripped out and stomped on.

I can’t go through that again. I won’t.

A soft whimper pulls me from my thoughts. Ophelia stirs, her brow furrowing as she shifts restlessly. I tense, ready to call for Rhys or Mace, but her eyes flutter open before I can move.

For a moment, she looks confused, her gaze darting around the room before landing on me. Recognition dawns in those piercing blue eyes, followed quickly by surprise.

‘Troy?’ Her voice is rough with sleep, sending a shiver down my spine. ‘Where are the others?’

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling awkward. ‘Rhys had to step downstairs to take a work call. Something about a patient. And Mace is on an emergency grocery fun for more heat supplies.’

Ophelia nods, pushing herself up into a sitting position. The sheet falls away, exposing her perfect breasts, and I have to force myself not to stare.

‘How are you feeling?’ I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral.

She considers for a moment, stretching languidly. The movement draws my eyes to the elegant curve of her neck, to the angry red mark marring her pale skin. The sight of it makes something twist in my gut—anger at the alpha who did this to her, mixed with a possessive urge I’m not ready to examine too closely.

‘Better,’ she says finally. ‘My head feels clearer, at least for now.’

I nod, unsure what to say next. The silence stretches between us, not quite uncomfortable but charged with an energy I can’t quite name.

Ophelia breaks it first. ‘I have to admit, I’m surprised you joined us last night.’

Her bluntness catches me off guard. ‘Oh?’ I try for nonchalance, but from the knowing look in her eyes, I’m not fooling anyone. ‘Why’s that?’

She gives me a look that’s equal parts amusement and exasperation. ‘Come on, Troy. It’s just the two of us here. You don’t need to pretend you weren’t set against me coming here. I could tell from the beginning.’

I open my mouth to deny it, but the words die on my tongue. She’s right, of course. I was against this whole arrangement from the start. But how do I explain that without sounding like a complete asshole?

‘I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t…’ I stumble over my words, frustrated with myself. Taking a deep breath, I try again. ‘Okay, you’re right. I was wary.’

Ophelia nods, no judgment in her eyes. ‘I’m just curious why. If you don’t mind me asking.’

I run a hand through my hair, debating how much to reveal.

Fuck it. If we’re doing this, might as well go all in.

‘I’ve been burned by omegas in the past,’ I admit. ‘And no offense, but you seemed… high maintenance.’

To my surprise, Ophelia laughs. It’s a rich, genuine sound that makes my chest tighten in a way I’m not prepared for. ‘That’s on purpose,’ she says, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask, intrigued in spite of myself.

She shrugs, the movement drawing my attention back to her exposed skin. ‘If I come across as high maintenance, most alphas won’t bother trying to get close. It’s safer that way. I don’t need to waste time or energy on anyone who doesn’t actually want me.’

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I recognize the strategy all too well. It’s not so different from my own tendency to push people away before they can hurt me. The realization creates a connection between us, a shared understanding that I wasn’t expecting.

‘I get that,’ I say softly. ‘More than you know.’

Ophelia opens her mouth to respond, but her words are cut off by a sharp gasp. Her face contorts in pain, her body curling in on itself as another wave of heat hits her. The scent of her heat spikes, filling the room with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that makes my head spin.

Without thinking, I’m on my feet and moving toward her. ‘Ophelia? What’s wrong?’

She shakes her head, unable to speak. Her skin is flushed, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out across her forehead. I reach out, hesitating for just a moment before placing my hand on her shoulder. Her skin is burning up, far hotter than it should be even during a heat.

‘Fuck,’ I mutter, concern overriding any lingering reservations. ‘Have you really been dealing with this since your alpha left?’

Ophelia takes a shuddering breath, leaning into my touch in what’s probably an instinctive response, considering I haven’t given her any reason to want to cozy up to me.

‘It’s usually not this bad,’ she manages to say through gritted teeth. ‘I take drugs to suppress it. But this… this is what I was trying to avoid.’

The admission sends a wave of anger through me—anger at the alpha who did this to her, at a world that would force an omega to suffer like this. ‘Why don’t you have a permanent pack to deal with it?’ I ask, my voice gentler than I intended. ‘It can’t be from a lack of options.’

She laughs, but it’s a hollow sound, nothing like the rich laughter from moments ago. ‘You don’t know alphas if you think that,’ she says bitterly. ‘No pack is jumping at the bit to have a used, half-marked omega.’

I frown, wanting to argue, to tell her that any pack would be lucky to have her. But she continues before I can speak.

‘Even if they were, I have no interest in anything permanent.’

The words hit me like a bucket of ice water, dousing the spark of hope I hadn’t even realized was kindling in my chest. She means it, I realize. It’s not just an act of her playing hard to get, not just a defense mechanism. Ophelia genuinely doesn’t want a permanent arrangement.

But there’s no time to dwell on that realization. Another wave of pain wracks Ophelia’s body, drawing a whimper from her lips. The sound goes straight to my core, awakening every protective instinct I possess.

‘What can I do?’ I ask, my hands hovering uselessly over her trembling form. ‘How can I help?’

Ophelia’s eyes meet mine, dark with need and something else—vulnerability, maybe. ‘You know how,’ she whispers.

For a moment, I hesitate. This is dangerous territory. I’m already more invested than I should be, more affected by this omega than I ever intended to be. But the sight of her in pain, the knowledge that I can help… I can’t resist.

I strip off my boxers quickly, efficiently, before climbing onto the bed. Ophelia reaches for me, her hands hot against my skin. I gather her into my arms, marveling at how small she feels against me.

‘I’ve got you,’ I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. ‘I’m here.’

Ophelia responds by capturing my lips in a searing kiss. It’s nothing like the hesitant, almost clinical interactions we’ve had up until now. This is raw, desperate, full of need and something deeper that I’m afraid to name.

I lose myself in the kiss, in the feel of her soft skin under my hands. She’s so responsive, arching into every touch, little gasps and moans escaping her lips. It’s intoxicating, addictive in a way I’ve never experienced before.

Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips down her neck, careful to avoid the half-mark in case it’s sensitive. Her breath hitches as I move lower, mapping every inch of her soft skin with my mouth. The sweet scent of her arousal fills my nose, making my head swim.

‘Let me taste you,’ I murmur against her collarbone. ‘Please.’

She nods, her fingers tangling in my hair as I work my way down her body. I take my time, savoring each gasp and moan I draw from her lips. When I reach her breasts, I lavish attention on each nipple until she’s squirming beneath me.

‘Troy,’ she pants, tugging at my hair. ‘Please.’

The desperate need in her voice sends heat coursing through my veins. I continue my descent, pressing open-mouthed kisses across her stomach, her hips, the inside of her thighs. Her scent grows stronger with each inch I move lower, calling to something primal inside me.

I spread her legs wider, groaning at the sight of her wet and ready for me. Without hesitation, I dive in, dragging my tongue through her folds. The taste of her explodes across my tongue.

Sweet and addictive.

Ophelia cries out, her back arching off the bed. Her thighs clamp around my head as I work her with my tongue, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her clit. Every sound she makes drives me wild, urging me to give her more.

‘Fuck,’ she gasps, grinding against my face. ‘Right there, don’t stop.’

I double my efforts, sliding two fingers inside her as I suck on her clit. She’s so wet, so tight around my fingers. The thought of being inside her makes my cock throb.

Her walls start to flutter around my fingers, her thighs trembling. I curl my fingers, finding that spot inside her that makes her see stars. She comes with a sharp cry, her body bowing off the bed.

I don’t let up, working her through her orgasm until she’s pushing at my head, oversensitive. Only then do I pull back, licking every last trace of her off my lips.

Ophelia looks utterly wrecked, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. Her eyes are dark with need as she reaches for me.

‘Come here,’ she demands. ‘I need you inside me. Now.’

When I finally enter her, it feels like coming home. She’s hot and tight around me, her body welcoming me like we were made for each other. And maybe we were if she really is our scent match. The thought sends a jolt of panic through me, but I push it aside.

Now isn’t the time for existential crises.

I set a steady pace, deep, powerful thrusts that have Ophelia crying out in pleasure. Her nails dig into my back, leaving marks I know I’ll feel for days. The pain only spurs me on, driving me to fuck her harder, deeper.

The slap of skin on skin fills the room, mixing with our gasps and moans. Ophelia’s scent envelops me, driving my alpha instincts into overdrive. I grip her hips tighter, angling my thrusts to hit that spot deep inside her that makes her see stars.

‘Troy,’ she gasps, her voice high and breathy. ‘Please, I need…’

‘I know,’ I growl, feeling my knot starting to swell. ‘I’ve got you, Ophelia. Let go.’

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. I can feel her inner walls fluttering around me, a sign of her impending orgasm. I speed up my thrusts, determined to push her over the edge. Slick spills from where we’re joined as her body begs for my knot.

Ophelia arches her back, her full, creamy breasts pressing against my chest. I dip my head, capturing a nipple between my teeth. The combination of sensations proves too much for her.

She comes with a cry, her body clenching around me in waves of pleasure. Her inner muscles milk my cock, the rhythmic pulsing almost painful in its intensity. The feeling is too much, too intense. With a roar, I bury myself deep inside her, my knot locking us together as I empty myself into her willing body.

Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over us both as I continue to pulse inside her. Ophelia clings to me, her face buried in my neck as she rides out the aftershocks of her orgasm. I hold her close, my hands stroking her back as we both come down from our high.

For a long moment, we stay like that, locked together, both of us panting and trembling with the aftershocks of our orgasms.

As the haze of lust clears, I’m struck by how right this feels. How perfectly Ophelia fits in my arms, how her scent mingles with mine in a way that makes my inner alpha purr with satisfaction.

It’s dangerous, I realize.

I could get attached.

Hell, who am I kidding?

I’m already attached.

But as Ophelia snuggles closer, her body relaxing as the pain of her heat subsides, I can’t bring myself to care.

She’s our scent match. I knew it from the moment she walked into that room, even if I was afraid to admit it. But I can’t be in denial any longer.

Even if I know it gives her the power to wreck me.

To destroy me in a way even Amelia never could.

I maneuver us carefully onto our sides, still locked together by my knot. Ophelia hums contentedly, her eyes drifting closed. I take the opportunity to really look at her, to memorize every detail of her face.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying that. But it’s more than just physical attraction. There’s a strength in her, a resilience that shines through even in her most vulnerable moments. It draws me in, makes me want to know more, to unravel every layer of her complexity.

It’s already clear I was wrong about her. She may be gorgeous, and have a taste for glamor, but she’s clearly been through hell. And she’s been dealing with it all by herself.

The thought flares my protective instincts. Makes me want to show her she doesn’t have to do it alone. Not anymore.

As my knot begins to deflate, Ophelia stirs, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looks confused, then relaxed as she remembers where she is. A soft smile plays at her lips, and I have to resist the urge to kiss her again.

‘Feeling better?’ I ask, my voice rougher than I intended.

She nods, stretching languidly. The movement causes my softening knot to slip out of her, and we both gasp at the sensation. ‘Much better,’ she says. ‘Thank you.’

I brush a strand of hair from her face, letting my hand linger on her cheek. ‘You don’t have to thank me,’ I say softly. ‘Trust me, I got as much out of that as you did. That’s what we’re here for, right?’

Something flickers in her eyes—sadness, maybe? But it’s gone before I can be sure. ‘Right,’ she agrees, her voice neutral.

We lay in silence for a while, neither of us quite ready to break the bubble of intimacy that’s formed around us. But there are questions burning in my mind, things I need to know.

‘Ophelia,’ I start, hesitating as she turns those piercing blue eyes on me. ‘Can I ask you something?’

She nods, wariness creeping into her expression. ‘Sure.’

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. ‘Why are you so against anything permanent? I mean, I get not wanting to jump into a mating right away, but… never?’

Ophelia sighs, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. For a moment, I think she’s not going to answer. But then she speaks, her voice soft and filled with a pain that makes my chest ache.

‘I tried the permanent thing once,’ she says. ‘I thought… I thought he loved me. That we were meant to be together forever. But then he left. Just… disappeared. And I was left with this.’ She gestures to the mark on her neck, her lips twisting in a bitter smile. ‘So yeah, I’m not really interested in risking that again.’

I want to argue, to tell her that not all alphas are like that. That our pack would never hurt her that way. But I know it’s not that simple. Trust, once broken, isn’t easily rebuilt.

And it would make me the world’s biggest hypocrite.

‘I get it,’ I say instead. ‘I’ve been there too. Not nearly the same as what you went through, but… I know what it’s like to have your heart ripped out.’

Ophelia turns to look at me, curiosity replacing the pain in her eyes. ‘What happened?’

I hesitate, old wounds threatening to reopen. But Ophelia shared her pain with me. She was vulnerable, even when I gave her no reason to be. It’s only fair I do the same.

‘Her name was Amelia,’ I start, the name still bitter on my tongue even after all this time. ‘She was a groupie. Turned out, she was using me to get to my bandmates.’

Ophelia’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘You were in a band?’

I can’t help but smirk. ‘Ever heard of a metal group called the Masked Marauders?’

She bites her lip, looking apologetic. ‘Um… no? Sorry, rock isn’t really my thing.’

I laugh, oddly relieved. ‘It’s fine. People usually don’t recognize me anyway. Just the lead singer.’

Curiosity gets the better of her, and she reaches for her phone on the nightstand. I watch as she types in the band name, her eyes widening as she scrolls through the results.

‘Wow,’ she breathes. ‘You guys are… big. Like, really big.’

I shrug, trying to play it cool despite the pride swelling in my chest. ‘I wasn’t one of the stars. Not like Jace or Liam. I was just… there. The one no one noticed. No one except Amelia.’

She frowns, listening intently, so I continue. ‘She pretended to be interested in me, but she really just wanted access to the others. When I found out…’ I swallow hard, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. ‘It broke me.’

‘What about the others?’ she asks, her eyes shining with genuine concern. ‘Didn’t they kick her out when they realized what she was doing?’

‘Not exactly,’ I say with a dry laugh. ‘They said I was jealous, and threatened to kick me out if I didn’t fall in line. So I didn’t give them the chance. I broke our bonds, and left the band not long after.’

‘Bonds?’ she asks, frowning. ‘You mean pack bonds, or like Rhys and your other packmate?’

‘The latter,’ I admit. ‘Kirk, the lead singer, insisted on it. Said he didn’t want anyone in the band who wasn’t fully committed to his ‘vision.’ Which turned out to be worshiping an omega who was only interested in any of us for the rock and roll lifestyle we could provide her with. That and an in with our label for her own singing career.’

‘The others didn’t see through that?’ she asks doubtfully.

‘Nope. Last I heard, she was fucking our former manager,’ I say with a shrug. ‘Kirk tried to reach out to me a couple years back, but I wasn’t interested. When we severed our bonds, some days it felt like I could barely survive, but then I found these guys. I learned what it really means to be a pack. Something no amount of forced bonds can compare to.’

‘How did you find them?’ she asks, staring at me.

‘Maddox,’ I answer. ‘He was actually a manager in the music industry before he drifted over to sports, and he still has a lot of connections. We met at a party, hit it off, and eventually, he introduced me to his pack. We just kind of vibed, I guess. They helped me get through the severed bonds, and didn’t mind that I was a reclusive weirdo. Guess you could say the rest is history.’All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

‘I’m glad you found them,’ she murmurs.

I smile. ‘Me, too.’

Ophelia’s hand finds mine, her fingers intertwining with my own. The simple gesture soothes something raw inside me.

‘For what it’s worth,’ she says, her blue eyes meeting mine, ‘I think you’re much cuter than the other guys. If I were a groupie, you’d be the one I went for.’

I can’t help but laugh, the sound chasing away the last of the darkness Amelia’s memory stirred up. ‘I’ll take it,’ I say, leaning in to capture Ophelia’s lips in a soft kiss.

She responds eagerly, her free hand coming up to cup my cheek. The kiss deepens, slow and languid, a stark contrast to the frantic passion of earlier. I lose myself in the taste of her, in the soft curves of her body pressed against mine.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless. Ophelia’s cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from our kiss. She looks utterly beautiful, and I have to remind myself that this is temporary. That she doesn’t want anything permanent.

‘So,’ Ophelia says, her voice husky. ‘Did you stop playing music when you left the Masked Marauders?’

I hesitate, memories of those dark days after leaving the band flooding back. ‘For a while, yeah. I couldn’t even stand to pick up an instrument. It felt like… like I’d lost a part of myself.’

Ophelia squeezes my hand, her touch anchoring me in the present. I take a deep breath, pushing past the lingering pain.

‘But music… it’s in my blood, you know? I couldn’t stay away forever.’

Her eyes light up with interest. ‘So you started playing again?’

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. ‘Sort of. I went underground, started writing my own stuff. Created a whole new persona.’

Ophelia’s brow furrows in confusion. ‘A new persona?’

‘Yeah, a faceless one,’ I explain. ‘It’s pretty common in EDM. Phonk, that kind of thing.’

She blinks at me, looking adorably lost. ‘Phonk…?’

I can’t help but laugh at her bewildered expression. ‘Here, let me show you.’

Reaching for my phone, I open my music app and scroll through my tracks. I select one of my recent releases, a dark, pulsing beat filling the room.

Ophelia listens intently, her head bobbing slightly to the rhythm. As the track builds to its crescendo, her eyes widen.

‘Wow,’ she breathes when it ends. ‘That’s… intense. Darker than what I usually listen to, but I like it.’ She pauses, tilting her head. ‘Sounds kind of angry, though.’

I chuckle, nodding in agreement. ‘Yeah, it can be. It’s a good outlet for… stuff.’

She hums thoughtfully.

‘What kind of music do you like?’ I ask.

She looks hesitant. ‘I don’t know… you’d probably hate it.’

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. ‘Try me.’

‘Well,’ she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice, ‘I usually just listen to pop music. Nana King, that kind of thing.’

To her surprise, I scroll through my workout playlist, stopping on one of Nana’s tracks. I hit play, letting the catchy melody fill the air between us.

Ophelia’s jaw drops. ‘You like Nana King?’

I smirk, shrugging nonchalantly. ‘I like a little of everything. Besides, it’s the perfect BPM for heavy rep sets at the gym. But you’d better not expose me. I’ve got a reputation to maintain,’ I tease. ‘Even the pack doesn’t know about me and Nana.’

She laughs, the sound rich and genuine. ‘Your secret’s safe with me. I’ll take it to the grave.’

We fall into a comfortable silence, the last notes of the song fading away. I find myself studying Ophelia’s face, tracing the curve of her cheek with my eyes. She’s full of surprises, this omega. Just when I think I’ve got her figured out, she reveals another layer.

‘So,’ I say, breaking the silence. ‘What other secrets are you hiding, Ophelia Thompson?’

She turns to me, a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

I growl playfully, pulling her closer. ‘Maybe I would.’

Ophelia’s laugh turns into a gasp as I nip at her neck, just below her ear. Her scent spikes, filling my nostrils with the intoxicating blend of her arousal and my own scent lingering on her skin.

‘Troy,’ she breathes, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair.

I pull back just enough to meet her eyes, seeing my own desire reflected there. ‘Yeah?’

She bites her lip, a gesture that sends heat pooling in my gut. ‘I think… I think I might need your help again.’

A low rumble escapes my chest as I capture her lips in a searing kiss. As I roll her beneath me, all thoughts of music and secrets fade away, replaced by the urgent need to claim, to possess, to lose myself in the omega who’s quickly becoming my addiction.