Page 259 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

I hesitate, my fingers twisting in my lap. “He needed you.” I pause, watching him. “He misses you. If you just come back. Tell him you’re sorry…”

Ren’s jaw tightens again, and he looks away, his gaze fixed on the fire as though it holds all the answers he’s looking for.

“It doesn’t matter how sorry I am,” he says after a long moment, his tone quiet but edged with something sharp. “Some actions…they can’t be taken back. No matter how much you regret them. No matter how badly you wish you could undo them.”

The truth of his words settles in my chest like a heavy unyielding stone.

He’s right.

Some things can’t be undone.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t work to make things better.

We sit in silence after that, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire and the faint hum of the generator beneath the table. Ren doesn’t look at me, and I don’t know if I should say anything else.

But then he moves, picking up the pail of warm water and a clean rag.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t answer, just kneels in front of me, the movement strangely reverent for someone like him.

His nostrils flare the moment he’s close, his head dipping slightly as he catches my scent. For a moment, his shoulders tense, his jaw clenching again, but he pushes through whatever instinct is clawing at him and dips the rag into the water.

“You’re hurt,” he says shortly, his voice rough. He takes my foot in his hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he starts wiping away the dirt and grime.

“I’m fine,” I protest weakly, trying to pull my foot away, but his grip tightens just enough to keep me still.

“Be quiet,” he mutters, not looking up. “Let me do this.”

His gentle touch is at odds with the image I’ve painted of him in my head, and every brush of his fingers sends shivers through me that have nothing to do with pain. When he leans closer to examine a cut, his breath fans warm against my skin, and I have to push back against the dull heat threatening to push harder in my veins.

Not now.

Not nowand definitely not here with him.

The warmth of the water soothes the sting of the small cuts and scrapes on my feet, and I find myself slowly relaxing despite the tension still hanging thick in the air. Watching him like this—kneeling at my feet, his movements careful and deliberate—it’s almost surreal.

He works in silence, his focus entirely on me. There’s no trace of the cold, distant alpha I thought I knew, only the quiet determination of someone trying to make amends in the only way he knows how.

When he finally finishes with my feet, he moves to my hands, his touch just as gentle as he cleans the dirt from my palms.

I watch him, my chest tightening with something I can’t quite name.

“I forgive you,” I say softly, the words slipping out without thought.

He goes so still, so silent, that for a moment I think he hasn’t heard me.

Then he looks up, those icy eyes meeting mine.

“You don’t have to,” he says quietly, voice raw.

“I do,” I reply, my voice steady even as my heart pounds in my chest.

“I don’t deserve it,” he says, his gaze never leaving mine.

For a long moment, we just stare at each other, the weight of his guilt and my forgiveness hanging between us.

And for the first time, I see him—not the cold, distant alpha who always seemed so untouchable, but the man beneath, the one who carries so much more than he lets anyone see. I see the alpha Finn fell in love with.

---