Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

The first rays of sunlight filter through the gossamer curtains, rousing me from a deep sleep. I blink, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings.

The silk sheets feel foreign against my skin, and the scent in the air is a heady mixture of alpha and omega pheromones. It’s a scent that leaves me momentarily wondering if I woke up in heaven or at least a tropical paradise somewhere.

Then it all comes rushing back.

Ophelia.

Her heat.

What we did last night.

I’m sprawled on my back, taking up a good portion of the massive bed. My bulk has always been an issue in standard-sized beds, but this nest could comfortably fit our entire pack with room to spare.

Ophelia is curled against my side, her head resting on my chest, while Rhys spoons her from behind. The sight of them, peaceful in sleep, makes my chest tighten with an unfamiliar emotion.

Ophelia’s raven hair is splayed across my chest like ink. Her face is relaxed in sleep, all the tension and wariness from yesterday gone. She looks so vulnerable. The urge to protect her, to keep her safe and happy, surges through me with surprising intensity.

Rhys’s arm is draped possessively over Ophelia’s waist, holding her close. The sight of them together stirs something in me. Not jealousy, but a sense of rightness.

Like puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.

Ophelia stirs, her scent—jasmine and ocean air—intensifying as she wakes. The fragrance fills my nostrils, making my head swim with desire. Her scent is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It calls to something primal in me, awakening instincts I didn’t even know I had in addition to all the usual ones that have had to be suppressed without an omega to pour them into.

Her blue eyes flutter open, meeting mine with a mix of confusion and warmth. For a moment, she tenses, and I can see the memories of last night flickering across her face.

Then she relaxes, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

‘Morning, little one,’ I rumble, my voice rough with sleep. The endearment slips out naturally, feeling right on my tongue.

‘Morning, Mace,’ she replies, her voice husky with sleep and satisfaction. The sound sends a shiver down my spine, memories of last night flooding back. The way those full lips felt wrapped around my cock, the feel of her soft skin under my calloused hands, the taste of her on my tongue…

Rhys mumbles something unintelligible, nuzzling into Ophelia’s neck. She giggles, the sound light and carefree. It’s a stark contrast to the guarded omega we met just days ago.

The change in her is remarkable, and I can’t help but feel a swell of pride knowing we played a part in it.

As much as I’d like to stay in this moment, basking in the warmth of our shared connection, I can smell Ophelia’s heat ramping up again. The sweet, enticing scent of her arousal is growing stronger by the minute. She needs food and hydration before the next wave fully hits.

So far, I don’t think she’s come to the realization that smacked into the three of us like a freight train as soon as she walked into that room at Temporary Bonds. But if Rhys is right, she’s been on suppressants for long enough that it could take a while.

Patience is a virtue, I remind myself.

And over the course of her heat, I have a feeling I’m going to find out just how virtuous I really am.

‘I’ll go make breakfast,’ I say, carefully extracting myself from the tangle of limbs. It’s already harder than it should be to pull away from her warmth, from the comfort of her touch.

Ophelia looks like she wants to protest, her hand reaching out as if to pull me back. But Rhys tightens his arm around her waist, keeping her in place. ‘Let him take care of you,’ he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep. ‘It’s what he does best.’

I feel my cheeks heat at the praise. It’s true that I’ve always been the caretaker of our pack, making sure everyone is fed and looked after. But hearing Rhys acknowledge it, especially in front of Ophelia, is a surprise.

Grumbling to hide my embarrassment, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and head for the kitchen. As I leave, I catch a glimpse of Ophelia snuggling back into Rhys’s embrace, a contented smile on her face. The sight warms something deep in my chest.

The kitchen is quiet and cool, a stark contrast to the heated atmosphere of the nest. I move around with practiced ease, pulling out pans and ingredients. As I whip up a feast of protein-rich foods—eggs, bacon, whole grain toast, fresh fruit —I can’t help but reflect on last night.

It was… intense.

Unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

Sharing an omega with my packmate should have felt weird, should have sparked jealousy or competition. But instead, it felt right. Natural. Like we were always meant to come together like this.

The way Ophelia responded to us, her body arching into our touches, her scent spiking with pleasure—it was intoxicating.

But there’s a nagging worry in the back of my mind. This is temporary. Ophelia made that clear from the start. So why does it feel like she belongs here, with us? Why does the thought of her leaving after her heat make my chest ache?

Oh, that’s right. She’s our scent match.

That was clear from the moment she walked into that meeting room at Temporary Bonds.

But Rhys is right. Even if she let us take care of her last night, we’ve still got a long way to go to earn her trust. And whoever marked her and left her broken clearly did a number on that.

The thought makes me crush an egg I’m trying to crack. I deposit the broken pieces and runny mess into the garbage disposal and turn on the sink.

I’m pulled from my thoughts by the sound of footsteps. I turn, expecting to see Rhys or Ophelia, but instead, I’m faced with Troy. He looks like hell. Dark circles under his eyes, hair a mess, clothes rumpled like he slept in them. Another late night working on his music, I guess.

‘You look like shit,’ I say bluntly, eyeing him with concern.

Troy grunts, making a beeline for the coffee maker. ‘Thanks, Captain Obvious. Your observational skills never cease to amaze me.’

I watch him for a moment, taking in the tense set of his shoulders, the way he avoids meeting my eyes. There’s more going on here than just a rough night’s sleep. ‘You never came to the nest last night,’ I state, keeping my voice neutral.

He stiffens, his grip on the coffee mug tightening until his knuckles turn white. ‘Wasn’t in the mood,’ he mutters, still not looking at me.

‘Bullshit,’ I growl, my patience wearing thin. I’ve known Troy long enough to see through his act. ‘What’s your problem, kid? Ophelia’s our scent match. She needs all of us. We made a commitment to her when we brought her here, temporary or not.’

As much as my inner alpha chafes at the idea of anything being temporary where Ophelia is concerned.

Troy whirls on me, his blue eyes flashing with anger. The sudden movement sloshes coffee over the rim of his mug, but he doesn’t seem to notice. ‘You don’t know that!’ he snaps, his voice rising. ‘We’ve barely met her. For all we know, this could be some kind of trick.’

I blink, taken aback by the vehemence in his voice. ‘A trick? What the hell are you talking about?’

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves. His scent spikes with distress, filling the kitchen with the acrid smell of fear and anger. ‘Think about it, Mace,’ he says, his words coming out in a rush. ‘She’s too perfect. The first omega we meet at this place just happens to be our scent match? It’s too convenient.’

I feel my temper rising, protective instincts flaring. The idea that anyone could think Ophelia is trying to trick us, after everything she’s been through, makes my blood boil. ‘Are you saying she’s lying?’ I demand, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl. ‘That she set this up somehow?’

Troy deflates, slumping against the counter. All the fight seems to drain out of him in an instant, leaving him looking defeated and vulnerable. It’s a stark reminder that despite his tough exterior, Troy is still the youngest of our pack.

‘I don’t know,’ he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘Maybe. There are ways to fake that kind of thing.’

‘Where the hell is this coming from?’ I ask, frowning.

Troy looks like he’s going to argue, but when he doesn’t, his silence speaks volumes. The answer is the same as always.

His former pack.

And the omega who broke them apart.

I soften, moving to put a hand on Troy’s shoulder. He flinches at the contact but doesn’t pull away. ‘Ophelia’s not Amelia, kid,’ I say gently. ‘You’d know that if you gave her a chance.’

Come to think of it, maybe their names being similar is part of this.

He shrugs off my touch, but I can see the conflict in his eyes. There’s a part of him that wants to believe, that wants to trust. But the scars Amelia left run deep. ‘I can’t risk it,’ he says, his voice cracking slightly. ‘I can’t go through that again.’

Before I can respond, a whimper echoes from upstairs. The sound goes straight to my core, my body responding instinctively to Ophelia’s needs. Her heat is spiking again, her scent growing stronger and more enticing by the second.

Troy flinches at the sound, his nostrils flaring as her scent intensifies. I can see the war playing out on his face. Desire versus fear, instinct versus caution. His hands clench at his sides, his whole body rigid with tension.

‘You’re afraid,’ I begin, turning back to him. ‘I get that. And I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but I do know out of all my regrets in this life, fear’s been behind all of ’em.’ I reach out and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t let Ophelia become one of your regrets.’

With that, I load up the tray with a feast fit for our omega. The aroma of bacon and eggs mingles with the sweet scent of fresh fruit, making my stomach growl. But it’s nothing compared to the intoxicating fragrance wafting down from upstairs.

I lumber up the stairs, careful not to spill anything. As I approach the nest, Ophelia’s scent grows stronger, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. My body responds instantly, cock hardening in my sweatpants.

‘Breakfast,’ I announce, pushing open the door with my foot.

Ophelia’s sprawled across the bed, skin flushed and glistening with sweat. Rhys is between her legs, face buried in her pussy. The sight of the omega’s face painted with her slick makes my mouth water, and for a moment, I forget about the tray in my hands.

‘Mace,’ Ophelia whimpers, reaching for me. Her blue eyes are hazy with lust, pupils blown wide.

Fucking hell.

I set the tray on the nightstand and climb onto the bed. ‘Eat first, little one,’ I rumble, running a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. ‘You need your strength.’

She pouts, but doesn’t argue. Rhys pulls away, his eyes glazed and his lips glistening. ‘Listen to the big guy,’ he says, voice husky. ‘Can’t have you passing out on us. But after breakfast, I’m going back to feasting on you.’

‘Get in line, Doc,’ I say, going over to help Ophelia sit up, propping her against the headboard. Her skin is hot to the touch, the fever of her heat burning through her. I grab a piece of bacon, holding it to her lips. ‘Open up.’

She looks surprised, but obeys, taking a small bite. As she chews, I can see the hunger in her eyes, and it’s not just for food. But I stand firm, continuing to feed her small bites of everything on the tray.

‘I can eat on my own,’ she mumbles, her face flushed a pretty shade of pink.

‘Sure you can, but where’s the fun in that?’ I ask. I can tell she’s not used to being taken care of, but she doesn’t seem to mind. And I have to admit, having her to fuss over and spoil scratches some itch buried deep inside my psyche.

Rhys helps, offering her sips of water and orange juice between bites. We work in tandem, our focus solely on taking care of our omega. It feels right, natural, like we’ve been doing this for years instead of hours.

‘Good girl,’ I praise as Ophelia finishes the last bite of toast. Her cheeks flush at the words, a soft purr escaping her throat.

The sound goes straight to my cock, making it throb painfully. I shift, trying to adjust myself without being too obvious. But from the knowing smirk on Rhys’s face, I’m not successful.

‘Feeling better?’ Rhys asks, his hand trailing up Ophelia’s thigh.

She nods, licking her lips. ‘Thank you,’ she says softly, looking between us. There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that makes my heart clench. ‘For everything.’

Before I can respond, the door creaks open. We all turn to see Troy standing in the doorway, looking uncertain. His gaze flicks between us, lingering on Ophelia’s naked form, and he swallows audibly.

‘Hey. Can I join you?’ he asks, a note of hesitation in his voice.

Ophelia’s eyes widen in surprise, and she takes on that guarded energy she wears like a shroud, but she nods. ‘Sure.’

Troy hesitates for a moment, then steps into the room. As he approaches the bed, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the wariness in his eyes. But there’s something else there too.

Hope, maybe.

He’s willing to try.

And deep down, I know his hesitation is only because he feels the same pull the rest of us do toward her and that scares the hell out of him.

He climbs onto the bed, settling beside Ophelia. Even though she’s deep in her heat, there’s still a wall up. Most omegas would be manhandling their alphas, demanding and whining by now, desperate for relief, but she hangs back, waiting for him.

They’re like two feral cats feeling each other out and I realize at this rate, things might never progress if I don’t nudge them along.

I push Ophelia’s thighs apart, inhaling deeply. Her scent hits me like a freight train, sweet and intoxicating. My mouth waters as I dive in, tongue lapping at her slick folds. She tastes like heaven and sin rolled into one, and I can’t get enough.

Ophelia’s back arches off the bed, a breathy moan escaping her lips. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. I growl against her sensitive flesh, the vibrations making her shudder.

From the corner of my eye, I see Rhys lean in, capturing Ophelia’s lips in a heated kiss. He swallows her moans as I work her with my tongue, circling her clit before dipping inside her.

Troy watches us, his eyes dark with lust and something else. Fear, maybe. But his cock is clearly straining against his sweatpants. He wants this—wants her—but he’s holding back.

He hesitates for a moment, then crawls forward, stroking a strand over her shoulder and palming her breast. She gasps into Rhys’s mouth as Troy’s fingers brush her nipple.

About fucking time.

I lap at Ophelia’s clit, feeling it swell under my tongue. Her thighs tremble on either side of my head, my stubble scraping against the sensitive skin, her hips rolling against my face.

Troy grows bolder, kneading Ophelia’s breast as he watches her face. The scent of his arousal spikes, mingling with Ophelia’s heat pheromones and ours. She’s driving my alpha instincts into overdrive.

I slip two fingers inside Ophelia, curling them to hit that spot that makes her see stars. She breaks away from Rhys’s kiss with a cry, her back arching off the bed.

‘Fuck, you’re beautiful,’ Troy murmurs, seemingly without realizing he’s spoken aloud. He leans down, taking Ophelia’s other nipple into his mouth.

The combination of sensations sends Ophelia over the edge. She comes with a keening wail, her pussy clenching around my fingers. I work her through it, lapping up her release like a man dying of thirst.

As she comes down from her high, I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and licking my fingers off. Ophelia looks utterly debauched, her hair a mess, lips swollen from Rhys’s kisses, chest heaving.

‘That’s just the beginning, little one,’ I growl, my cock throbbing painfully. ‘We’re gonna take such good care of you.’

I grip Ophelia’s hips, marveling at how soft and delicate she feels beneath my large hands. With a gentle but firm push, I turn her onto her belly. She goes willingly, a soft whimper escaping her lips as she presses her face into the pillow.

‘Bottoms up,’ I growl, my voice thick with lust.

She obeys instantly, raising her hips. The sight of her glistening pussy, pink and swollen, makes my mouth water. I run a finger through her folds, collecting her slick. It’s hot, almost scorching, a testament to the intensity of her heat.

I position myself at her entrance, the head of my thick cock nudging against her. It’s nearly the girth of her forearm and it won’t be an easy fit. She pushes back, eager and needy, but I hold her still. ‘Patience,’ I rumble, even as every fiber of my being screams at me to bury myself in her tight heat. ‘Heat or not, I don’t think you’re ready for all this at once.’

She whimpers as if in disagreement, but she holds relatively still as Troy and Rhys pet her hair, coaxing her into a more comfortable position.

Slowly, torturously, I push inside. Her walls clench around me, so hot and wet it nearly makes me lose control. I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to slam home.

‘Fuck,’ I groan, sinking deeper. ‘You feel so good.’

Ophelia moans, her fingers clutching at the sheets. I can smell her arousal, sweet and heady, mixing with the muskier scents of Rhys and Troy.

As for Troy, he’s moved closer, his eyes dark with desire as he watches me slide into Ophelia. His cock is hard, straining against his sweatpants. He licks his lips, hesitating for just a moment before asking, ‘Ophelia… think you can handle two alphas at once?’

She turns her head, looking up at him with those big blue eyes. Her lips part, and what comes out isn’t words, but a sound that sends electricity racing down my spine.

It’s a whine. A pure, needy omega whine that speaks directly to the most primal part of me.

‘Please,’ she begs, her voice high and breathy. ‘Please, alpha. I need it.’

The sound, the words, they flip a switch in all of us. I feel it like a physical force, the air in the room suddenly charged with raw, animal energy.

Troy growls, low and dangerous, as he shoves his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, hard and leaking. Without hesitation, he moves to Ophelia’s head, presenting himself to her eager mouth.

I start to move, unable to hold back any longer. I pull out almost completely before slamming back in, setting a punishing pace. Ophelia cries out in pleasure, the sound muffled as she takes Troy into her mouth.

Rhys watches us, his own hand wrapped around his cock. His eyes are glazed with lust, flicking between Ophelia’s face and where I’m pounding into her.

The room fills with the sounds of our mating—skin slapping against skin, Troy’s grunts of pleasure, Ophelia’s muffled moans, my own animalistic growls. The scent of sex and pheromones hangs heavy in the air, driving us all into a frenzy.

I grip Ophelia’s hips tighter, driving into her with powerful thrusts. She takes it all, her body yielding to me in a way that makes my head spin. Every push inside her tight, wet heat brings me closer to the edge.

Troy’s head is thrown back, his fingers tangled in Ophelia’s dark hair as she works him with her mouth. The sounds he’s making—deep, guttural groans—tell me our girl’s doing one hell of a job.

Rhys watches us, stroking himself as he waits for his turn. His eyes are dark with lust.

‘Fuck, Ophelia,’ I growl, feeling my knot starting to swell. ‘You’re taking me so well, little one. You want my knot?’

She pulls off Troy long enough to gasp out a ‘Yes!’ before he guides her back down onto his cock.

I speed up my thrusts, chasing my own release since a knot is the only thing that’s going to ease the little omega’s suffering. Ophelia’s inner walls flutter around me, signaling her own approaching orgasm. I reach around, finding her clit with my fingers. I rub it in tight circles, determined to make her come before I do.

It doesn’t take long. With a muffled cry, Ophelia’s body tenses, her pussy clenching around me in rhythmic waves. She relaxes just enough for my knot to slip in, and not a moment too soon before it swells to its full girth. The added pressure is too much. With a roar, I slam home one last time, my knot locking us together as I empty myself inside her.

Troy follows soon after, his hips jerking as he comes down Ophelia’s throat. She swallows it all, licking him clean before collapsing onto the bed. Troy collapses against the headboard, dazed and satisfied.

We stay like that for a moment, all of us panting and sweaty. I’m still locked inside Ophelia, my knot keeping us tied together. I carefully maneuver us onto our sides, spooning her from behind.

‘You okay, little one?’ I murmur, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

She nods, a soft smile on her face. ‘Never better,’ she says, her voice hoarse.

Rhys moves in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. ‘You’re amazing,’ he tells her, stroking her cheek. ‘Think you can go again once Mace’s knot goes down?’

Ophelia’s eyes light up with renewed desire. ‘Yes, please,’ she purrs.

I chuckle, holding her close. ‘We’re gonna give you all you need and then some, omega.’

Ophelia’s body fits perfectly against mine, her curves molding to my bulk like we were made for each other. And maybe we were.

The thought sends a jolt through me. Fuck, this just feels right. I know the others feel it, too.

Even Troy, for all his fears and reservations.

Now we just have to be sure she feels the same way by the time she leaves here.

Or better yet, convince her to stay.