Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

I trail my fingers along the banister as I descend the stairs, struck by the unusual quiet blanketing the house. Normally, there’s a constant buzz of activity. Mace puttering in the kitchen, Rhys on a work call, Troy’s music drifting from his studio.

But now?

Nothing.

A tendril of unease curls in my stomach. Have they all left? Did something happen? I’m not used to this feeling of… belonging. Of caring where people are, of being cared for in return. It’s unsettling, how quickly I’ve grown accustomed to their presence.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice Troy until he’s right in front of me, sweeping me into his arms. His lips crash against mine, stealing my breath and my worries in one fell swoop. When he finally pulls back, I’m dizzy, clinging to his shoulders to stay upright.

‘Morning, princess,’ he says, that cocky grin spreading across his face. ‘Hope you’re wearing comfortable shoes, ’cause we’re going shopping.’

I blink, trying to process his words through the haze of his kiss. ‘Shopping? But I don’t need⁠—’

‘Need’s got nothing to do with it,’ he cuts me off, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘This is about spoiling you rotten. And if your shoes aren’t comfy enough, I’ll just have to carry you. Win-win, if you ask me.’

A blush creeps up my cheeks at the thought of Troy carrying me through a mall. ‘I can walk just fine,’ I mumble, even as a part of me thrills at the idea of being in his arms.

‘Suit yourself,’ he shrugs, but his hand slides down to cup my ass, giving it a squeeze. My blush deepens, spreading down my neck. ‘But I’ve got plans for you, princess. Gonna buy you some pretty little things to wear for us. Or not wear, as the case may be.’

The idea of Troy picking out lingerie for me… it’s equal parts exciting and terrifying. I open my mouth, not sure if I’m going to protest or agree, when a throat clears behind us.

We turn to see Leon standing there, his posture uncharacteristically hesitant. Gone is the cocky alpha I remember from our youth.

In his place is a man who looks…

Humbled.

Somber.

And still infuriatingly hot in his designer suit. It’s disconcerting, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

‘Where are you two off to?’ he asks, his voice carefully neutral.

Troy’s arm tightens around my waist, a subtle show of possessiveness that makes my omega preen, even as my rational mind rebels against the idea of being owned. ‘I’m convincing our girl here to let me spoil her with a shopping spree,’ he says. ‘Maybe you can help, Leon. Tell her she deserves nice things.’

I watch hope flicker across Leon’s face. ‘You do deserve nice things, Ophelia,’ he says softly. Then, turning to Troy, ‘I could come along, if you want. Carry bags, whatever you need.’

The eagerness in his voice is palpable.

He’s not just offering to be helpful.

He’s grasping at any chance to be near me.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

‘You’re not helping,’ I mutter, but there’s no real heat behind my words.

Troy laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine. ‘Looks like you’re outvoted, princess. Better go put on those comfy shoes, ’cause we’re about to hit every store in the city.’

I sigh, knowing when I’m beaten. ‘Fine. But I’m drawing the line at anything with feathers or excessive glitter.’

‘No promises,’ Troy says with a wink, giving my ass another playful squeeze before releasing me.

As I head back upstairs to change, I can’t help but wonder what I’m getting myself into. A shopping spree with Troy and Leon? It sounds like the setup for a bad joke.

Or a disaster waiting to happen.

But there’s a part of me, a part I’ve kept locked away for so long, that’s excited. That wants to be pampered and spoiled. That wants to feel beautiful and desired.

I slip on a pair of comfortable flats, taking a deep breath to steady myself. Whatever happens today, at least it won’t be boring.

That much is certain.

When I come back downstairs, Troy and Leon are waiting by the door. The tension between them is palpable. But there’s something else there too. A history, a bond that runs deeper than their current rivalry.

‘Ready to go, princess?’ Troy asks, his eyes raking over me appreciatively.

I nod, suddenly feeling shy under their combined gazes. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

Leon opens the door, gesturing for me to go first. As I pass him, his scent washes over me. Pine and winter air, achingly familiar. For a moment, I’m transported back to that summer night, to the feeling of his arms around me, his lips on my skin.

I shake my head, banishing the memory.

That was a lifetime ago.

Things are different now.

Aren’t they?

The drive to the mall is… interesting, to say the least. Troy bypasses his flashy sports car for a more comfortable SUV, and Leon rides in the back, but he’s still close enough for me to be on edge. Their scents mingle in the enclosed space, making my head spin and my body react in ways I’d rather not pay too much attention to.

Troy keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting possessively on my thigh. Leon stares out the window, his body rigid, but I can feel the heat radiating off him.

‘So,’ I say, desperate to break the tension, ‘what exactly did you have in mind for this shopping trip?’

Troy’s grin turns wicked. ‘Oh, a little of everything. Clothes, shoes, maybe some jewelry. And, of course, some special little numbers for the bedroom.’

I feel my cheeks heat up again. ‘I really don’t need⁠—’

‘What did I say about need?’ Troy interrupts, his fingers squeezing my thigh. ‘This isn’t about need. It’s about want. About making you feel good. You do want to feel good, don’t you, Ophelia?’

The way he says my name, low and husky, sends a shiver down my spine. ‘Yes…”

Leon shifts beside me, a low growl rumbling in his chest. I turn to look at him, surprised by the intensity in his eyes.

‘He’s right. You deserve to feel good,’ he says, his voice rough with guilt. ‘To have nice things. To be taken care of.’

I swallow hard, caught between them, drowning in their scents and their words. It’s too much, too fast. I’ve spent so long taking care of myself, convinced I didn’t need anyone.

And now…

‘We’re here,’ Troy announces, pulling into a parking spot.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Saved by the mall, of all things.

As we walk through the entrance, I can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed. The last time I went shopping like this before the pack was… well, never. Even before Leon left, before my family disowned me, shopping was always a utilitarian affair.

Get what you need and get out.

But Troy has other ideas. He leads us straight to a high-end boutique, the kind of place I would have never dared enter before. The saleswoman’s eyes light up as we walk in, no doubt seeing dollar signs.

‘Welcome,’ she purrs, her gaze flicking appreciatively between Troy and Leon. ‘How can I assist you gentlemen today?’

Troy’s arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close. ‘We’re here for this gorgeous omega,” he says, his voice filled with pride. ‘Price is no object.’

I open my mouth to protest, but Leon beats me to it. ‘Whatever she wants,’ he adds, his eyes never leaving my face.

The saleswoman’s smile widens. ‘Of course. Let’s start with some basics, shall we? What’s your style, dear?’

I falter, suddenly feeling very out of place. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve never really had a style.’

What I wore to the Scent Bar was one thing. I wore whatever would catch the alphas’ attention, but now that I’m not that person anymore…

I’m really not sure who I am.

‘That’s what we’re here to figure out,’ Troy says, his voice gentle. ‘Why don’t you look around, see what catches your eye?’

I nod. As I wander through the racks of clothes, running my fingers over soft fabrics and intricate designs, I can’t help but feel a bit lost.

Everything is so beautiful. So far removed from the practical, often secondhand clothes I’m used to.

How am I supposed to choose?

I run my fingers over a silky emerald blouse, marveling at how it slips through my grasp like water. The price tag makes me wince, but Troy’s words echo in my mind.

This isn’t about need. It’s about want.

Do I want this?

The color reminds me of the lush forests surrounding the cabin, of lazy mornings wrapped in Rhys’s and Maddox’s arms. Before I can second-guess myself, I pluck it from the rack.

After that, the decisions flow a bit more easily.

I still feel guilty about spending someone else’s money, but I’m pretty sure if I don’t, Troy is going to go overboard.

‘Now we’re talking,’ Troy grins, appearing at my side. ‘How about a little fashion show, princess?’

I glance at Leon, who’s pretending to be very interested in a display of scarves. His ears are tinged pink, and I can’t help but find it… endearing?

No.

Amusing.

That’s safer.

‘Alright,’ I agree, surprising myself. ‘But no commentary from the peanut gallery.’

Troy’s eyes sparkle with mischief. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

The dressing room is bigger than my old apartment’s bathroom. I slip on the blouse, pairing it with a sleek black pencil skirt.

The woman in the mirror looks like a stranger.

Polished, confident.

Is this really me?

I step out, and Troy lets out a low whistle. ‘Damn, princess. You’re gonna give these alphas heart attacks.’

Leon’s head snaps up, his eyes widening as they rake over me. He opens his mouth, closes it, then manages a strangled, ‘You look nice.’

“Nice?” I arch an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing him a little. ‘Just nice?’

He looks away. “I mean, you look… stunning,” he mutters. “Beautiful. I⁠—”

‘Alright, alright,’ Troy laughs, clapping Leon on the back. ‘Don’t hurt yourself, big guy. Next outfit, Ophelia. Let’s see what else we can do to short-circuit Leon’s brain.’

I retreat to the dressing room, a small smile playing on my lips. It’s… fun, watching Leon squirm. I probably shouldn’t enjoy it, but after years of feeling powerless, there’s a certain thrill in knowing I affect him so strongly.

And something tells me Troy is doing it on purpose.

But I’m not complaining.

We leave the boutique with more bags than I can carry, Troy insisting on every outfit that made me smile. As we approach our next destination, my steps falter. I’d thought we might be stopping by, but I wasn’t a hundred percent certain.

‘A lingerie store?’ I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Troy’s grin is positively wolfish. ‘Can’t have a proper shopping spree without it, princess.’

Okay, now I’m completely sure he’s doing this to torture Leon.

I glance at Leon, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. ‘I can’t exactly try these on there,” I protest weakly.

‘No problem,’ Troy shrugs. ‘We’ll get a few sizes of whatever catches your eye. You can try them on at home, model them for us.’

The casualness with which he says it—like it’s the most natural thing in the world for me to parade around in skimpy underwear for them—makes my head spin. This pack operates on a whole different level of wealth, of intimacy.

Inside the store, Troy is like a kid in a candy shop. He flits from rack to rack, holding up scraps of lace and silk for my inspection. Leon trails behind us, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.

‘Oh, this one’s perfect,’ Troy exclaims, holding up a black corset adorned with blood-red roses. ‘Mace is gonna lose his mind. Pretty sure the pinup model on the calendar he used to have in his office was wearing a number just like this.’

I blink, trying to reconcile the image of gruff, teddy-bear Mace with the idea of pinup girls. Actually, I can see it. I can’t help but wonder if he took it down because of me.

I’m used to the kinds of alphas who will hire an escort even if they’re happily mated, so the idea that these men don’t even want to look at other women is novel, to say the least. Even when I was desperate, I refused mated clients on principle, but I still never imagined there were alphas like this out there.

‘What do you think of this one, Leon?’ Troy asks suddenly, holding up a sheer babydoll nightie in a soft blue that matches my eyes.

Leon’s head snaps up, his eyes widening as they land on the garment. He swallows hard, his voice rough when he finally speaks. “Very nice.’

‘Think it would look good on our girl?’ he presses.

Yeah, he’s definitely just torturing him now.

Leon swallows audibly. ‘Anything would.’

The sincerity in his tone catches me off guard. For a moment, I see a flash of the boy I fell in love with all those years ago. I push the thought away, focusing instead on the growing pile of lingerie in Troy’s arms.

As we approach the register, I brace myself for the total. But Troy just hands over a black card without asking for it, and I’m once again reminded of the vast difference between my old life and this new one.

‘One more stop,’ Troy announces as we leave the store, Leon trailing behind us like a pack mule laden with bags.

I follow his gaze to a store front adorned with plush blankets and pillows. ‘Nesting supplies?’ I ask, confusion bleeding into my tone.

‘Yep,’ Troy grins. ‘Time to make that nest truly yours, princess.’

I dig my heels in, shaking my head. ‘The nest is already perfect. You guys did an amazing job setting it up. I don’t need⁠—’

‘What did I say about need?’ Troy interrupts, his tone gentle but firm. ‘We set it up with the basics, sure. But we always planned on our omega customizing it to her liking. Right, Leon?’

Leon nods, speaking up for the first time in what feels like hours. ‘It’s true. You should make it your own.’

I bite my lip, torn between the desire to sink into the softness of the blankets I see in the window and the nagging voice in my head that says I shouldn’t get too comfortable. ‘I appreciate the thought, but really, I’m fine with⁠—’

Troy cuts me off by pulling the black card from his wallet and pressing it into my hand. His blue eyes lock onto mine, intense and unyielding. ‘Fuck that, princess. You’re ours. Ours to take care of, ours to worship, and ours to spoil you. Like you should have been from the start.’

As much as I love hearing those words, I open my mouth to protest again. But Troy presses a finger to my lips.

“The strip on this card had better be worn off by the time you’re done, or I’m buying you this whole fucking store.’

I stare at the card in my hand, my mind reeling. This is too much. It’s all too much. But as I look up at Troy’s determined face, at Leon’s hopeful eyes, I realize I’m fighting a losing battle.

With a deep breath, I step into the store, the scent of lavender and vanilla washing over me. My omega instincts, long suppressed, rise to the surface. I want to burrow into every soft thing I see. To create a haven that smells like me, like pack, like home.

I reach out, my fingers sinking into the plush fur of a throw blanket. It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt, and before I know it, I’m piling it into a cart. Pillows follow. Silk and velvet and chenille in every size and shape. A weighted blanket catches my eye, promising comfort and security. I never knew I needed one of these, but the warm tingly feeling that washes over me as soon as I heft it in my arms, even if Leon immediately takes it from me like I’m going to collapse under the weight, cinches the purchase.

As I move through the store, I lose myself in the sensory experience. The gentle chime of wind chimes, the cool smoothness of river stones, the warm glow of salt lamps. There’s something for every conceivable space an omega could possibly want to build. Each item I add to the cart feels like a piece of myself I’m reclaiming.

I’m vaguely aware of Troy and Leon following behind me, their scents a comforting presence at my back. They don’t interfere, don’t offer suggestions. They simply let me choose, let me indulge in this primal omega urge to create, to nurture, to make a space that’s truly mine.

There are a few things that catch my eye that I leave out, including a pink chenille blanket that somehow costs the GDP of a small nation. I just can’t justify spending that much on something that will probably get wrecked by sweat and other bodily fluids during my next heat.

I make it another few aisles before I’m stopped in my tracks at the sight of an absolutely massive wicker chair shaped like a crescent moon and covered in crystals and lights, surrounding a cozy bench outfitted in the softest, butteriest white leather cushions I’ve ever felt. My immediate thought is that it would look amazing in my studio, the perfect place to curl up and create a mini nest when I’m tired from working, but then I glimpse the price tag.

A hundred thousand fucking dollars?

They have to be joking. Or it’s made out of diamonds.

I manage to pay no more than a passing glance and a light brush of my hand to it before moving on. That’s so not gonna happen. There are a few other shinies that catch my eye, too, but I can’t swallow the pricetags, even if I know the pack can more than afford it.

When I finally reach the register, the cart overflowing, I expect to feel guilty for spending the pack’s money. But as I hand over the black card, all I feel is a strange warm tingle up my spine.

I have to admit, being pampered feels kind of nice.

Troy arranges to have everything delivered to the mansion so we don’t have to worry about lugging it all through the mall, and true to his word, Leon is carrying the rest.

And Troy is letting him.

‘You sure you got everything you want?’ Troy asks as we leave the store, his arm draped casually over my shoulders.

I nod, unable to find the words to express the emotions swirling inside me. How do I tell him that this simple act of choosing blankets and pillows has made me feel more like myself than I have in years?

‘Thank you,’ I whisper instead, hoping he understands everything I’m not saying.

The smile he gives me tells me he does. ‘Anytime, princess. Now, how about we head home and see about testing out some of those new purchases?’

I blush and glance around, realizing we’ve lost Leon. Troy seems to come to the same conclusion.

‘He’ll catch up with us,’ he says, and he’s probably right.

But I’m used to him disappearing, and I’m well practiced in schooling myself not to care.

I follow Troy out to the parking garage, slipping into the passenger seat. I’m exhausted, but picking out all those nesting supplies definitely scratched an itch I didn’t know I had.

Movement catches my eye in the side mirror. I squint, trying to make out the figure running toward us. It takes me a moment to realize it’s Leon, his arms laden with shopping bags.

Troy chuckles, rolling down the window as Leon reaches us, panting heavily. ‘Well, well. Look who decided to join us. Just in time, too. Another minute and you’d have been walking home.’

Leon glares at Troy. Without a word, he yanks open the back door and collapses into the seat, the bags rustling around him.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ Troy teases, glancing at Leon in the rearview mirror.

Leon’s only response is a low growl, barely audible over the hum of the engine. I can feel the tension radiating off him, prickling against my skin. Part of me wants to turn around, to see the expression on his face, but I resist the urge.

Instead, I close my eyes, letting the gentle motion of the car lull me into a light doze.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, Troy’s hand is on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake. ‘Rise and shine, princess. We’re home.’

I blink groggily, taking in the familiar sight of the mansion’s driveway. Leon is already out of the car, unloading bags from the trunk. Troy helps me out, his arm wrapping around my waist to steady me as I sway slightly on my feet.

‘You look beat,’ he says, concern coloring his voice. ‘Why don’t you go rest? Your new nesting stuff should be here by dinner.’

‘Probably not a bad idea,’ I agree.

As I make my way inside, I hear Troy call out to Leon, ‘Hey, big guy. Need a hand with those bags?’

Leon’s gruff reply is lost as I climb the stairs, my feet feeling heavier with each step. I barely manage to kick off my shoes before collapsing onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress.

Sleep claims me almost instantly.

The sound of the doorbell jolts me awake. For a moment, I’m disoriented, unsure of how much time has passed. The room is bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sunlight, and I can hear muffled voices downstairs.

I sit up, running a hand through my tangled hair, when the bedroom door opens. Maddox steps in, a warm smile on his face.

I blink groggily as Maddox’s comes over and the beta’s lips brush against mine, his familiar scent of s’mores washing over me. ‘Welcome back to the land of the living, sleeping beauty,’ he murmurs, a teasing glint in his eyes.

‘How long was I out?’ I ask, my voice still rough with sleep.

‘A few hours,’ he replies, helping me sit up. ‘Just in time, too. The rest of your things are here.’

As if on cue, Troy and Mace appear in the doorway, their arms laden with bags. They stride into the room, depositing the bags on every available surface. I watch in amazement as more and more bags appear, the pile growing until it threatens to overtake the entire space.

‘Did we buy out the whole mall?’ I ask, only half-joking.

Troy grins, that mischievous glint in his eye that I’m quickly coming to associate with trouble. “Only about half of it, princess.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. There’s something infectious about Troy’s enthusiasm, even if it was a bit overwhelming at first.

Mace sets down the last of the bags, his large frame dwarfing everything in the room. ‘Ready to show us what you got, little one?’ he asks, his gruff voice softened with affection.

I nod, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. As I start rifling through the nearest bag, a flash of pink catches my eye. My heart skips a beat as I pull out the chenille blanket I’d been eyeing in the store.

The one I’d left behind because of its exorbitant price tag.

“Wait, I didn’t buy this,” I say, confused, running my fingers over the impossibly soft fabric.

Troy peers over my shoulder, his brow furrowing. ‘Huh. I don’t remember seeing that one before.’

I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. But his confusion seems genuine. ‘You didn’t add it to the cart when I wasn’t looking?’

He shakes his head, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘Nope. Not me, princess.’

My mind races as I turn back to the bags, pulling out item after item. The river stones I’d admired for the bathroom but deemed too frivolous. The salt lamp I’d talked myself out of. Even the ridiculously expensive essential oil diffuser I’d barely glanced at. They’re all here, nestled among the things I remember choosing.

‘I don’t understand,’ I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. ‘How…’

The doorbell chimes, cutting off my train of thought. Mace straightens up, a curious look on his face. ‘Maybe they forgot something?’

He disappears downstairs, and I can hear muffled voices drifting up from the foyer. A moment later, the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor reaches my ears.

‘Uh, Ophelia?’ Mace calls up. ‘You might want to come see this.’

Exchanging confused glances with Troy and Maddox, I make my way downstairs. As I reach the bottom step, my jaw drops.

There, taking up most of the foyer, is a massive box. And peeking out from the partially opened top is a familiar shape.

The crescent moon of that wicker chair I’d fallen in love with but hadn’t dared to even consider buying.

‘What the…’ I trail off, unable to form coherent thoughts.

As the delivery men maneuver the box further into the house, suddenly, it clicks.

Leon.

He must have noticed me looking at these things in the store. Must have seen the longing in my eyes that I thought I’d hidden so well. And without a word, he went back and bought them all.

A whirlwind of emotions sweeps through me, leaving me dizzy and off-balance. Gratitude wars with confusion, joy with a lingering sense of mistrust.

‘Where should we put this?’ one of the movers asks, jolting me out of my thoughts.

‘Uhm. Upstairs, please,’ I say sheepishly. ‘In my studio.’

‘I’ll show you,’ Maddox says, leading them up the stairs.

I watch in bewilderment as the huge chair is carted up to my studio. The extravagant finishing touch on an already luxurious space. It’s the kind of studio a master sculptor would have, not an amateur hobbyist.

But I can’t deny the flutter of excitement in my chest as I think about the new pillows and blankets I’m going to put in the chair.

And even if Leon isn’t around to say thank you to, I have to admit that just this once, he didn’t do too shabby.