Page 36 of Knot Unwanted: Part Two

“Then we end this.”

The words settle like a weight in the air. No going back now. No surrender.

Just blood. And vengeance.

And the unshakable certainty that we’ll burn the whole fucking world down to get our people back.

Finn releases a breath, pushing off the blanket as he tries to stand. I reach for him instinctively.

“What do you think we should do?” he asks.

“We know who has her. That rich asshole who hides behind philanthropy. He spoke to us at the gala.” I swallow hard. My gaze shifts to Stone. “And we…we know a pack that might help us get them both back.”

Chapter 9

Ren

Concrete. Blood. Darkness.

My world has narrowed to these three constants. The unforgiving concrete beneath me, cold and slick with my own blood. The darkness that comes and goes as consciousness slips and wanes.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Hours? Days? The windowless room offers no clues, no passage of time except for when they come to add new bruises to my collection.

My body is a roadmap of pain. Ribs cracked where a boot connected too many times to count. Right eye swollen shut. Something torn in my shoulder when they wrenched my arms behind my back.

But none of it matters.

I’m still breathing. Still thinking. Still waiting.

And that’s what they don’t understand about me. I’m not just surviving—I’m waiting for them to slip up.

Because there’s one thing I know about people in this business, in this world my parents were involved in that I’vebeen dismantling piece by bloody piece: their ego is their weakness.

They won’t be satisfied with keeping me in this hole. They didn’t bring me here just to beat me and leave me to rot. Not after I found one of their holding facilities. Not after I’ve been a thorn in their side for years.

No, they’ll want to gloat. They’ll want me to know I’ve lost.

And that’s when I’ll find my opening.

The door scrapes open, flooding the room with painful light. Three figures step inside, silhouettes against the brightness. Not betas this time—alphas. I can smell it on them, even through the blood clogging my nostrils. Their scents are muted, but there’s no mistaking the sharp tang of alpha pheromones.

“Still conscious?” one of them asks, voice distorted through the mask he’s wearing. “Tough son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

I say nothing. Talking is a waste of energy.

The second alpha circles me like a shark, boots echoing on concrete. “Doesn’t look so scary now, does he? The great Ren Ironwood. Rich prick who thinks he can do anything he wants.” He nudges my side with his foot, right where I’m most bruised. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a flinch.

“He’s scrawnier than I expected,” the third one says. “Thought he’d be built like his father.”

“You know what they say,” the first alpha replies, crouching in front of me. His mask is plain black, featureless except for eye holes that reveal nothing but shadow. “Disappointment runs in the family.”

I let my lip curl slightly. Such amateur psychological warfare. I’ve endured worse from my actual family.

“Nothing to say?” The other alpha sounds almost disappointed. “After all the trouble you’ve caused, I expected more fight.”

“Maybe we beat it out of him,” the third alpha suggests. He sounds pleased with the idea.

The first alpha shakes his head. “No. He’s biding his time.” He leans closer, his breath hot even through the mask. “Aren’t you, Ironwood? Thinking you’ll find a way out. That your pack will come for you.” He laughs, the sound hollow behind the mask. “They’re not coming. Your alpha abandoned you. Your omega is being prepared for her new alpha. And soon, you’ll be nothing but a footnote in a ledger.”

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