Knot Unwanted, Part Two (Pack Salvation Reverse Harem Omegaverse Duet #2)

1. Ren

Chapter 1

Ren

T wo and a half years ago, I killed my omega.

Not with my hands, though those were stained with his blood by the end of it. Not with a weapon, though the twisted metal of the car became one.

I killed him…with a choice.

—

Rain lashes the windshield, the wipers barely keeping up as they sweep back and forth in a steady rhythm that doesn’t match my thundering heart. Beside me, Finn dozes, his head resting against the window, face peaceful despite the storm raging outside. Despite the storm raging inside me.

Dinner with my parents had gone exactly as I’d expected. Polite conversation layered with meanings only I could hear, smiles that never reached their eyes, questions about Finn that probed deeper than mere curiosity. They’d been assessing him, cataloging him, the way they did all omegas who crossed their path.

“Such unusual coloring,” Father had remarked, reaching out to touch Finn’s hair without permission. “And those eyes—quite striking. You must have been very…fortunate to secure him, Ren.”

Fortunate. As if I’d acquired a rare painting or an antique watch. As if Finn were just a possession, not a person. Not my mate .

Finn had smiled politely, used to the way alphas sometimes treated male omegas like curiosities. He had no idea what lurked beneath Father’s words. No idea that his uniqueness—those storm-gray eyes I could stare into all day, that honey-gold hair, the fact he was male —made him particularly valuable in certain circles. Circles my family moved in. Profited from. Controlled.

“He’s very special,” I’d agreed, my arm sliding around Finn’s waist, pulling him closer to my side. “Our pack is very happy.”

Father’s smile had been thin, sharp as a blade. “I’m sure you are,” he’d said, his gaze sliding over Finn in a way that made my skin crawl. “Such a shame you’ve been keeping him all to yourself. Your mother and I have friends who would have loved to meet him.”

Friends. Business associates. Buyers .

Beautiful, innocent Finn had beamed at what he thought was acceptance. “I’d love to meet your friends,” he’d said, turning those trusting gray eyes to me. “Wouldn’t that be nice, Ren?”

I’d forced a smile, feeling sick. “We’ll see,” I’d hedged. “Our schedule is pretty packed these days.”

I couldn’t wait for the dinner to be over. I couldn’t wait to leave.

Now, driving through the storm, I replay every moment of the evening, searching for signs that they suspected the truth—that I hadn’t brought Finn home to introduce him to my family, but to assess the threat they posed. To gauge whether they’d recognized him as the omega they’d been watching at that gala, the one masquerading as a charity benefit. Just like all those others I’d attended when I was younger, blind to what those events were really for.

Too naive to see the rot beneath the surface.

Too trusting to question why black vans would leave our property in the dead of night after those events.

The pack I grew up in wasn’t just a lie. It was something far worse. A pretty facade draped over something monstrous, and I’d been too close to see it until it was almost too late.

A phone call buzzes on my phone mounted on the dashboard. Amaya. My beautiful omega sister. The one I’d thought I could trust with everything once I discovered the truth. The one who had looked at me with those wide ice-blue eyes—so much like my own—and told me she’d already known.

“ They’re only helping omegas get matched with suitors they’d never have a chance with anyway, Ren ,” she’d said, her voice so calm it had made me sick. “ These omegas aren’t like us . They’re not from the stock. And the high-profile clients they’re matched with? Bottom-of-the-barrel omegas would never even dream of getting the chance to bond with such alphas otherwise. It’s a win-win .”

I couldn’t understand. She was an omega, too. How could she be complicit? How could she justify it?

“ Family sticks together ,” she’d told me, as if that explained everything.

I don’t answer her call. Instead, I focus on the road before me. That’s when the phone buzzes with a text instead.

I check the message, dread pooling in my stomach.

Amaya

We need to talk. The buyer who wanted Finn isn’t happy.

But there’s nothing to talk about. I’d heard everything I needed at that dinner tonight.

You’ve bonded with an omega that was on the list, Ren!

Fuck their list. And fuck every asshole alpha who had their eyes on Finn.

Amaya

They want him.

They’re willing to trade.

Trade? FUCK THEM.

Fuck.

Fuck !

It’s not over.

I took Finn as my mate, and it still isn’t over.

Amaya isn’t trying to warn me. She’s delivering a message.

My blood runs cold, my grip tightening on the steering wheel as rage turns my blood to lava. My parents.

They’re not going to let up, are they. Even when they know he’s mine.

Which means Finn isn’t safe. None of us is.

I glance at him again, at the soft curve of his mouth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He’s drifting in that space between sleep and wakefulness, exhausted from the tension of the dinner, unaware of the danger closing in around us.

I need to get him home. Need to tell Stone and Jax. Need to get us all to that cabin I have in the woods before?—

Headlights flare in my rearview mirror, blinding in their intensity. A vehicle approaching fast. Too fast for these weather conditions. Too fast to be anything but deliberate.

“Shit.” I press down on the accelerator, trying to put distance between us and the approaching car. The rain makes the road treacherous, and even with my car’s sports tires, I can feel the slip and slide beneath us.

Finn stirs, roused by the sudden acceleration. “Ren?” He blinks, sleep still clouding his eyes as he straightens in his seat. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, baby,” I lie, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face in half. “Just trying to beat the worst of the storm.”

But he’s always been too perceptive, too attuned to my moods. He turns in his seat, following my gaze to the rearview mirror, to the headlights bearing down on us. “Someone’s in a hurry,” he remarks, frowning slightly.

Before I can respond, the vehicle behind us surges forward, closing the distance in seconds. It’s close enough now that I can make out its shape—boxy, matte black, windows tinted so dark they swallow the streetlights whole.

I know this van. Know the way its suspension groans when loaded. Know the particular squeak of its rear doors from that night months ago, when my curiosity finally overrode family loyalty.

Rain had been falling then too, muffling my footsteps as I slipped through the delivery entrance of Dad’s company, keeping to the shadows as I followed the betas down to the basement. The scent had hit me first—cloying artificial citrus barely masking sweat and fear. Then the sounds. Whimpers behind locked doors. The sound of machines beeping.

Finn shifts beside me, and my fingers tighten even harder on the wheel. That basement had held six omegas in various states of sedation, IV drips feeding them suppressants while they waited for “processing.” The medical trays full of bonding suppressants and pheromone enhancers. The files with their price tags in neat columns.

“Ren,” Finn’s voice is sharper now, worry edging into his tone. “What’s going on?”

I don’t answer, too focused on maintaining control of our vehicle, eyes on the blurry traffic lights marking the intersection ahead. The van behind us is still closing in, its intent unmistakable now.

It’s going to ram us.

I accelerate harder, overtaking a sedan faster than is safe, feeling the wheels lose traction for a heart-stopping moment before they grip again. Finn grabs the door handle, his eyes wide, his scent spiking with fear.

“Ren, talk to me.” My heart clenches. I hate hearing him so panicked. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” I lie again, even as the pieces click into place. Amaya’s text. The SUV. The timing of it all.

They’re coming for Finn. Coming to take him. Coming to punish me for what I did, for the omega I stole from them, for the betrayal of everything the family stands for.

The SUV rams us from behind, the impact jarring, metal crunching against metal. Our vehicle lurches forward, and I fight to maintain control, to keep us on the rain-slicked road. When Finn cries out, the sound tears through me like a knife.

“Hold on,” I grit out, pushing the accelerator to the floor, desperate now to outrun our pursuers.

But they’re relentless, closing the distance again, ramming us a second time. This impact is harder, catching the rear corner of the car and sending us into a spin.

The world blurs, everything moving too fast and too slow all at once. The screech of tires, the sound of Finn’s terrified gasp, worse the bitter scent of his fear and the sickening sensation of weightlessness as we start to skid.

And then I see it, through the rain and chaos—another intersection ahead and the massive logging truck barreling through, its driver unaware of our drama, its tonnage of steel and timber looking like death in disguise. We’re sliding directly into its path, a collision that would crush us instantly.

At the same moment, from the opposite direction, another vehicle approaches. Small, moving fast, its headlights cutting through the storm. The glow of pink LED lights in the rims of the tires.

Amaya.

She’s in that car. She’s the only one I know with a car like that. My sister, coming to deliver her message in person. Coming to ensure the buyer gets what they want.

But she’s driving too fast, unaware of the chaos unfolding ahead of her. Unaware of the SUV that’s still pushing us, forcing us toward that truck, toward certain death.

In that moment, time fractures.

They say right at the moment you die, time slows down. Maybe this was it.

I see everything with impossible clarity—the approaching truck, the inevitable collision, Finn’s pale face turned toward me, eyes wide with fear. I see the choice laid out before me with brutal simplicity.

Swerve left, toward the approaching car—toward Amaya. Shield Finn from the impact with the logging truck and take the brunt of it myself. Save him at the cost of my sister.

Swerve right, toward the empty shoulder where we might slide past the truck. But the angle is wrong, the physics unforgiving—Finn’s side would take the brunt of any collision. Save Amaya at the cost of Finn’s safety.

There’s no time to think, to weigh, to choose. There’s only instinct and the desperate need to protect what’s mine.

For a split second, I wonder if my parents would really go this far—if they would risk their own son’s life just to reclaim an omega. If this is all some elaborate bluff, a game of chicken they expect me to lose.

But the truck is real. The danger is real. And I can’t gamble with Finn’s life.

So…

I swerve left.

The collision is deafening, metal screaming against metal, glass shattering, airbags deploying in a violent explosion of white. The impact sends us spinning again, our car rolling once, twice, before coming to rest on its side.

Pain explodes through me, sharp and all-consuming. I can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t think past the ringing in my ears and the taste of blood in my mouth.

Finn.

I’m dazed but conscious, hanging in my seatbelt, a few cuts stinging my arms and face. But Finn?—

“Finn!” I cry out, and this time my voice works, sharp with terror.

His door has crumpled inward, twisted metal gouging deep into his midsection. Blood—so much blood—soaking his shirt, his jeans, the seat beneath him.

“ No . No, no, no,” I’m fumbling with my seatbelt, ignoring the pain shooting through my shoulder. “Finn, look at me. Stay with me.”

His eyes flutter open briefly, unfocused, glazed with shock. “Ren,” he whispers, so faint I barely hear it.

And then I smell it. The gasoline. Heat.

Fire.

Panic surges through me as I release my seatbelt, falling awkwardly against the door beneath me. The metal that’s pinning Finn is deep. Jagged. Terrifying. I can’t pull him free without causing more damage, but I can’t leave him here to burn either.

“I’m going to get you out.” My voice is steadier than I feel. “Just hold on.”

With desperate strength, I manage to kick open my door. Rain cascades in, ice cold, shocking my senses as I crawl out, then reach back in for Finn. But the twisted metal has him trapped, each movement causing fresh blood to well up, staining everything black in the moonlight.

“ I’m sorry ,” I whisper as I pull, knowing I’m hurting him, but I have no choice.

He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t make a sound. His silence terrifies me more than any cry of pain could.

Somehow, impossibly, I manage to free him from the wreckage, dragging him away from the burning car just as flames lick higher into the rainy night. We collapse on the wet pavement, Finn’s blood washing away in dark rivulets.

“ Stay with me .” I’m pressing my hands to the worst of his wounds, trying to stem the bleeding. But it’s too much. His midsection is torn open. Jagged lacerations where the metal cut deep, and there’s a nasty wound on his skull. “Finn, please .”

His eyes flutter closed, his breathing shallow, body going limp beneath my hands.

“ No !” The scream comes out raw, broken. “Finn, don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you dare .”

Time blurs. I’m vaguely aware of sirens, of voices, of hands pulling me away from him. I fight them, desperate to stay with him, but my strength is gone, used up in that final effort to save him.

“No pulse—starting compressions—” someone is saying.

“Severe abdominal trauma, possible brain bleed?—”

“We’re losing him?—”

The words detonate in my skull. Losing him. Losing him.

A defibrillator whines.

Clear . THUMP.

Finn’s body jerks—lifeless.

Again. THUMP.

Nothing.

“Time?” someone snaps.

“19:42.”

A beat of silence. The lead medic’s mouth tightens. “Call it.”

No .

I surge forward, but two EMTs haul me back. “ He’s not gone !” I scream, alpha command cracking. “ Try again! TRY AGAIN ?—”

They don’t. All I see is their pity as they look at me.

No .

“ Finn …”

The world fractures. Sound drains away. All I see is Finn’s still face, his lips already turning blue.

I killed him .

“ Finn …”

I fall to my knees on the rain-drenched street.

“Finn…please…don’t leave me.”

Silence.

My knees hit pavement. Something inside my chest rips open. Not my heart—that’s too small. This is deeper. The place where bonds live. Where pack lives. It tears in half with a pain that doesn’t register as pain anymore, just white-hot nothingness.

Then—

A single, jagged beep.

My head snaps up.

The medic freezes, her stethoscope pressed to Finn’s chest. For a heartbeat, no one breathes.

Another beep.

“We’ve got a rhythm!” she shouts.

I choke on air. Alive. Alive ?—

But Finn doesn’t wake. Doesn’t move. His chest rises once, twice, with the forced pump of the ventilator.

Alive. But not here.

Alive. But barely.

I follow in a daze as they load him into the ambulance. It’s only when I reach the doors that I remember Amaya. Remember the other car, the reason for my choice, the sacrifice I made.

I turn, searching the rainy darkness, and see the crumpled remains of her car, wrapped around a pole on the other side of the road. Emergency workers stand around it, their movements slow, subdued. No urgency. No hope.

One of them shakes his head at another.

No.

I take a stumbling step toward her car, needing to know, to see, but a paramedic catches my arm.

“Sir, you need to come with us,” he says, guiding me back toward the ambulance where Finn lies, pale and still, surrounded by equipment keeping him alive.

“My sister,” I say, but my voice is but a whisper, the alpha in me completely subdued.

The beta’s eyes soften with understanding. With pity. “I’m sorry,” he says.

And I know. In my heart, I already know.

I chose Finn. And in the span of minutes, I lost them both anyway.