Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

The shrill ring of my phone cuts through the haze of my suppressant-induced fog. I fumble for it, nearly knocking over the bottle of pills on my nightstand in the process.

Great. Just what I need—to spill my last lifeline all over the floor.

‘Hello?’ I croak as I pick up the phone off the dresser, my voice rough from disuse.

When was the last time I actually spoke to someone?

Yesterday?

The day before?

Everything’s blurring together.

I got slammed with aches and pains almost as soon as I got back from the interview, so I’ve pretty much been curled up in bed with a heating pad, the few snacks that don’t make my stomach turn, and my favorite comfort reads and shows. Even they aren’t quite scratching the itch right now, though.

My heat is close. Inevitable, really. These pills can’t stave it off much longer, and I can’t risk going to the Scent Bar like this. I don’t trust myself to be this vulnerable around the kinds of alphas who hire me there.

‘Ophelia? This is Samantha from Temporary Bonds.’

I sit up straighter, suddenly wide awake. ‘Oh, hi. Is everything okay?’

‘Everything’s wonderful!’ Samantha chirps, her enthusiasm grating on my already frayed nerves. ‘I have some exciting news. A pack is interested in meeting you. They’re actually available this afternoon if you’re free.’

My heart races, a mix of anticipation and dread coursing through my veins. ‘This afternoon?’ I echo, glancing at the clock. It’s barely past noon. Technically, it’s already afternoon.

‘Is that too soon?’ Samantha asks, her voice softening. ‘I already sent their file over to your email, but normally, there’s more time for you to look things over and consider. We can always reschedule if you need more time.’

I hesitate, weighing my options. On one hand, I feel like absolute shit. On the other hand, I’ve already asked for a week off work—time I can’t afford to waste. If this falls through, I’ll be reduced to trolling rut bars for a quick fix. And at this rate, I can’t even afford another refill on my suppressants.

‘No, this afternoon is fine,’ I hear myself say. ‘What time should I be there?’

We hash out the details, and before I know it, I’m hanging up and dragging myself out of bed. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wince. Yikes. I look like something the cat dragged in, chewed up, and spat back out.

I stumble to the bathroom, turning on the shower and cranking up the heat. As I wait for the water to warm up, I study my reflection more closely. Dark circles under my eyes, skin pale and clammy, my hair a tangled mess.

Not exactly a presentable omega.

But that’s what makeup is for, right?

I step under the spray, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. As I lather up, I can’t help but wonder about this pack.

Are they old?

Young?

Attractive?

Not that any of it matters. This is strictly business. Get in, get knotted, get out.

No attachments, no complications.

After my shower, I throw on a robe and start the arduous process of making myself look human. I blow-dry my hair until it falls in soft waves around my shoulders, then apply enough makeup to hide the signs of my suppressant-induced exhaustion. After putting on a full face, including enough contour magic to get me hunted by Van Helsing, I almost look like my old self.

Almost.

I rummage through my closet, trying to find something appropriate. Not too revealing—I don’t want to give them the wrong idea. But not too conservative either. I settle on a simple sundress in a soft blue that brings out my eyes. Casual enough for a first meeting, but still flattering.

As I slip on a pair of sandals, I catch sight of the clock.

Shit.

I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.

I grab my purse and keys, racing down to the parking garage. My beat-up Honda greets me with its usual reluctance, the engine sputtering to life with a worrying rattle.

‘Come on, baby,’ I mutter, patting the dashboard. ‘Just get me there and back. That’s all I’m asking.’

The car makes an ominous grinding noise in response.

Great. Another repair bill I can’t afford.

Just what I needed.

I navigate through midday traffic, my stomach churning with a mix of nerves and nausea that isn’t helped by the grumbling of my car. By the time I pull into the Temporary Bonds parking lot, I’m a mess of anxiety.

‘You can do this,’ I tell my reflection in the rearview mirror. ‘It’s just a meeting.’

With a deep breath, I step out of the car and make my way into the building. The cool air-conditioned lobby is a welcome relief from the summer heat outside. I approach the reception desk, plastering on my best fake smile.

‘Hi, I’m Ophelia Thompson. I have an appointment with a pack?’

The receptionist smiles warmly. ‘Of course, Ms. Thompson. If you’ll have a seat, Samantha will be with you shortly.’

I perch on the edge of a plush armchair, my leg bouncing nervously. I’m so focused on trying to calm my racing heart that I almost miss Samantha’s approach.

‘Ophelia! It’s so good to see you again.’

I stand, shaking her outstretched hand. ‘Hi, Samantha. Thanks for setting this up on such short notice.’

She waves off my thanks with a smile. ‘It’s my pleasure. Now, before we go in, I just wanted to let you know… this is a very prestigious pack, and you were their first choice. You’re quite lucky. Every omega in the program would drool at the prospect of landing them.’

I force another smile, even as my stomach twists.

Lucky.

Right.

Because being passed around like a party favor is the height of good fortune.

I have to admit, though, I’m glad I was someone’s first choice. That’s a tiny ego boost, all things considered. And now I’m more nervous than ever.

‘That’s… great,’ I manage, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my lack of enthusiasm. Prestigious or not, it doesn’t matter. This is temporary. Just a means to an end.

Samantha leads me down a hallway to a plain-looking door marked as a consultation room. ‘Remember, you’re in control here. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or want to leave, just say the word. Okay?’

I nod, touched by her concern despite myself. ‘Okay. Thanks, Samantha.’

She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze before opening the door. ‘Gentlemen, may I present Ophelia Thompson.’

I step into the room, my eyes immediately drawn to the three men—the three alphas—waiting inside.

And holy shit, are they a sight to behold.

The first thing that hits me is their scents. Even through the haze of suppressants and all the scent maskers they pump through the vents, their combined alpha musk is intoxicating. Petrichor and sunlight, bourbon and leather, freshly baked cookies. And they all smell divine in combination. It’s a heady mix that makes my head spin and my knees weak.

The second thing I notice is how devastatingly handsome they are. Like, unfairly attractive. The kind of good-looking that makes me wonder if they’re even real or if I’ve stumbled into some kind of alpha fever dream.

The tallest of the three steps forward, a warm smile lighting up his face. He has dark auburn hair that falls in soft waves around his face and warm brown eyes that crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He’s prettier than any alpha I’ve ever seen, but it’s all masculine beauty. The sort of beauty I imagine motivated more than a few sculptors to put chisel to stone.

‘Ophelia, it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ he says in a deep, warm voice that makes my knees weak. ‘I’m Rhys.’

He takes my hand, and I have to suppress a shiver at the contact. His skin is warm, his grip firm but gentle. I find myself staring, lost in those kind eyes. He’s definitely the one who smells like sunlight dancing across freshly wet grass after a long, hard rain.

Rhys seems to shake himself out of a similar daze for some reason, clearing his throat before gesturing to the others. ‘Let me introduce you some of the other members of my pack. This is Mace.’

The second alpha is huge, close to seven feet tall and built like a linebacker who’s been out of the game for a while. He’s a bit older than the others, probably in his early forties. His arms and shoulders are huge and ripped, but his middle is soft and padded, like a big teddy bear. But despite his intimidating size, his face is open and friendly, with twinkling gray eyes and a beard that looks soft enough to nuzzle.

He gives me a small wave. ‘Hi there, little one.’

Finally, Rhys turns to the third alpha. He’s younger than the others, maybe in his mid twenties, with short dark hair and piercing blue eyes lined with just a hint of kohl. He’s lean and muscular, with an air of danger about him that makes my pulse quicken.

‘And this is Troy,’ says Rhys.

Troy nods, his expression guarded. ‘Hey.’

Samantha clears her throat, reminding me of her presence. ‘Well, I’ll leave you all to get acquainted. Remember, Ophelia, just let me know if you need anything.’

With that, she slips out, leaving me alone with three of the most attractive alphas I’ve ever seen.

Great. No pressure or anything.

Rhys gestures to a comfortable-looking armchair. ‘Please, have a seat. Can we get you anything to drink?’

I shake my head, sinking into the chair. ‘No, thank you. I’m fine.’

There’s an awkward pause as we all size each other up. I’m acutely aware of their gazes on me, and I resist the urge to fidget under their scrutiny.

Finally, Rhys breaks the silence. ‘So, Ophelia, tell us a bit about yourself. What do you do for a living?’

I freeze, my mind racing. What do I tell them? Somehow, I don’t think ‘I sell my body to strange alphas’ is going to go over well.

‘I, uh, work in customer service,’ I say lamely.

It’s not entirely a lie, right?

I do serve customers.

Just in a very specific way.

Troy raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

But Rhys just nods encouragingly. ‘That must be challenging work. Dealing with the public can be quite demanding.’

You have no idea, buddy.

‘It has its ups and downs,’ I say with a shrug. ‘What about you guys? What do you do?’

‘I’m a doctor,’ Rhys begins, looking at the others. ‘Mace is an MMA trainer.’

‘Really?’ My eyes widen as I study the burly alpha in shock. My track record with alphas who fight professionally is a huge freaking mess, but this one seems like a gentle giant, at least.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Then again, I know how deceptive first impressions can be.

Especially when it comes to alphas.

Mace flashes me a disarming grin, his big arms folded over his broad chest. ‘Been a while since I stepped into the ring myself.’

‘And Troy here is our resident musician,’ Rhys says, glancing to the younger alpha to his right.

‘Oh?’ I cock my head, realizing Troy is the only one who hasn’t really looked at me the whole time. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s avoiding eye contact entirely. Does he find me that distasteful? ‘What kind of music?’

‘Electronic,’ Troy answers. At least he’s not completely ignoring me, but he’s still not meeting my eyes. ‘Probably nothing you’ve heard of.’

If it’s the type of hypnotic, endlessly looping shit they play twenty-four seven in clubs, it’s probably seared into my brain already, but I decide not to admit that since he clearly isn’t interested in expounding on the subject.

‘There are actually two more members of our pack,’ Rhys adds. ‘But they couldn’t be here today. My bond mate is preparing for a big fight, and his manager is our beta. I’ll let them introduce themselves to you when the time comes. If you’ll have us, that is.’

Another fighter?

I hope my internal grimace isn’t obvious.

But not every alpha is Leon, I remind myself. Even if most of them are awful in their own way.

‘Bond mate?’ I echo.

Rhys and the others exchange a glance. Rhys tilts his head and says, ‘I mentioned it in our profile, but did they not include that?’

‘Oh,’ I say, my cheeks flushing. ‘I… haven’t actually looked at your profile yet,’ I admit.

Wonderful. Now they know I was desperate enough to meet with the first pack Temporary Bonds offered without even glancing at their file. If they think anything of it, though, none of the alphas shows it. Even Troy seems unphased.

‘I’m not sure how much you know about alpha bonds,’ Rhys admits. ‘We can discuss it in more detail later, but the abridged version is that while all of us are bonded as a pack, only the two of us are bonded bonded.’

‘Oh.’ I blink. ‘So you’re… together?’

‘No,’ Rhys answers with a chuckle. ‘Not like that. We just share a deep bond, kind of like… twins. And we share almost everything else, too.’

My mind immediately drifts to wondering exactly what almost everything else entails, but I smack myself mentally like I’m batting a hand away from a cake.

‘They finish each other’s sentences, the whole shebang,’ Troy says flatly. ‘It’s annoying as shit.’

Mace elbows him, but judging from the smirk on the older alpha’s face, he doesn’t disagree.

I can’t help but laugh. ‘And the others… Will they, uh, be involved in this arrangement?’

Rhys exchanges a glance with the others before answering. ‘Not initially, no. They won’t be back for a while. But in the future, if you’re comfortable with it and if this arrangement continues, then yes, they would be involved.’

I nod, relief washing over me. Not that it matters. I don’t plan on sticking around long enough to meet the rest of their pack.

‘So, Ophelia,’ Rhys says, leaning forward slightly. ‘What are you looking for in this arrangement? What do you hope to get out of it?’

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Honesty is probably the best policy here, right? ‘Look, I’m going to be straight with you. I’m not looking for anything serious. Just a casual thing to get me through my heat. That’s it.’

I pause, studying their reactions. Rhys and Mace seem a little disappointed, but they nod understandingly. A flicker of something like surprise crosses Troy’s face, but it vanishes just as quickly.

I can’t even be bothered wondering what that’s about. I gave up trying to make sense of alphas and their whims a long time ago.

‘Is that… going to be a problem?’ I ask warily, looking between them.

‘No,’ Rhys says a bit too quickly. ‘Not at all.’

‘We were looking for casual,’ Troy says, and something about the way he emphasizes were makes the remark seem a bit pointed. The look Rhys shoots him confirms it.

‘I assume Samantha mentioned my… condition?’ I add hesitantly.

Rhys nods, his expression softening. ‘Yes, she did. And I want you to know that it doesn’t change anything for us. We’re here to help, in whatever way you’re comfortable with.’

I turn to the others, my gaze lingering on Troy. ‘And you? Does it bother you that I’ve got a broken mark?’

Troy’s head shoots up like he wasn’t expecting me to call him out, but I’m assuming that’s the reason he seems so uncomfortable around me. I’d rather get that shit out in the open right now so we can all avoid wasting each other’s time.

Once Troy has recovered from his surprise, he frowns and says, ‘No, it doesn’t bother me.’

It’s not exactly an enthusiastic response, but I guess it’ll have to do. Not that it matters. I don’t need his respect or his love.

I just need their knots.

Then I’m gone.

‘Doesn’t bother me one bit,’ Mace chimes in. ‘You’re not defined by your past.’

I can’t help but smile a little. He seems genuine enough, at least. ‘Thanks. I appreciate the sentiment.’

Rhys leans forward, his expression earnest. ‘Ophelia, I want you to know that we’ll do whatever we can to make you feel comfortable and safe during your heat. If you’ll have us, that is.’

I hesitate, weighing my options. This pack seems… complicated. There’s clearly more going on here than a simple heat arrangement. But their scents are calling to me in a way I’ve never experienced before, making me want things I’ve sworn off long ago.

And if I’m being honest with myself, I’m feeling a little desperate. The thought of spending my heat with these three is far more appealing than picking up some random alpha at a rut bar.

‘Okay,’ I hear myself say. ‘I’m in.’

The relief on their faces is palpable. Rhys smiles warmly and Mace makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest. Even Troy’s expression softens slightly.

‘Wonderful,’ Rhys says. ‘When is your next heat due?’

I shrug. ‘Whenever, really. I’m on suppressants, so…’

Rhys’s brow furrows in concern. ‘I see. Well, if you’re comfortable with it, we could aim for tomorrow evening? That would give us some time to prepare for your arrival. Of course, that’s assuming you’re okay with spending your heat at our home.’

I hesitate. I have a strict policy against going home with clients, but this is different, right? Temporary Bonds has vetted them, and it’s not like I can take three alphas back to my tiny apartment.

‘Yeah, okay,’ I agree. ‘Tomorrow works.’

They exchange excited glances, and I can’t help but feel a flutter of excited nervousness in my stomach.

What am I getting myself into?

We exchange numbers and finalize the details. As I stand to leave, Rhys takes my hand again, his touch sending sparks up my arm.

‘We’re looking forward to tomorrow, Ophelia,’ he says softly. ‘Thank you for giving us a chance.’

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As I walk out of the room, I can feel their eyes on me, their scents lingering in my nose.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’ll be spending my heat with three incredibly attractive alphas who smell like everything I’ve ever wanted.

What could possibly go wrong?