CHAPTER 11

Helena

"Get down on your knees. Helena." I almost didn't hear Jarrett when he spoke. Only his lips were moving but I didn't hear a single thing.

"I said, get down on your knees." He repeated, tugging the front of my dress with the back of his fingers.

I snapped back to the present only to see Jarett crossing over the window. I got down on the floor slowly and kept my head buried on the ground.

My heart was hammering so hard it hurt my ribs.

The intruders didn’t look like the wolves I’d imagined from books. They weren’t big, shaggy beasts. They were men who were tall, lean and dressed in black tactical gear with their faces painted with ash in jagged lines.

One of them tilted his head when he saw me and smiled.

“The Marked One,” he said in a rough voice that sounded like he hadn’t used it in a long time. “Took you long enough to show your face.”

My breath caught. Marked One? I didn’t— I wasn’t—

“Don’t touch her,” Jarrett said in a voice that sounded layered. I remained on the floor, my entire body vibrating from fear.

Three of them moved, two went for Jarrett while the third came straight for me.

I got up immediately and tried to run but my legs wouldn’t work. He was too fast. His hand shot out and closed around my wrist.

I felt pain before I saw light exploding from my skin where he touched me. From the faint birthmark on my inner wrist that I’d had since I was born.

The force threw him. He flew across the room and slammed into the far wall hard enough to crack the drywall. He didn’t get up.

The room went dead silent while the other two

The other two attackers froze mid-step.

And Jarrett froze too.

His glowing eyes were locked on me. On my wrist. On the silver light that was still fading from my skin in little sparks, like embers.

Because I think I shouldn’t be able to do that.

I could see the mix of shock and fear on his face and the realization that whatever he’d been hiding from me was already broken.

My knees gave out and I hit the floor, the mark on my wrist throbbing hot and cold at the same time.

Jarrett POV

Years....I’d bought her years.

The prophecy said eighteen. The elders said twenty-one. I’d planned for twenty-five, just to be safe. I’d built walls around her life so thick she’d never feel the pull, never hear the call, or even know what was in her blood until I decided she was ready.

And now this. The awakening was starting already.

Helena was on her knees on the floor of my penthouse, with silver light bleeding out of her like she was made of it, and a rogue wolf across the room with a broken spine because he touched her.

That shouldn’t have been possible, not until the rite had been done and not until I was there to guide her through the first shift so it didn’t tear her apart.

But someone was accelerating it somewhere, I was sure of that. Someone was forcing her wolf to the surface before her body could handle it, before I could handle it.

Rage burned through me and it wanted out.

The claws in my hands twitched as the partial shift wanted to finish and tear through these intruders and the one who sent them and keep tearing until Helena was safe.

But I couldn’t, not if I shifted all the way. And I couldn't do that with her like this. The first awakening was fragile. If I lost control, and let the beast take over, I could hurt her.

So I held it. I gritted my teeth as my bones ached and my eyes burned gold eyes as I forced myself to stay half-human.

Two rogues were still standing, looking at Helena, then at me, then back at her. I saw the calculation in their eyes.

“The Marked One,” the taller one said again, but this time it wasn’t mocking. It was reverent and sounded fearful. “She’s awake.”

“Who sent you?” I asked in a low tone but they didn’t answer.

We moved at the same time. I hit the first one and drove him through the coffee table. The second lunged for Helena again, and I caught him by the throat mid-air and slammed him down.

It was over in seconds.

When it was quiet again, one of them was still breathing. I grabbed him by the front of his vest and hauled him up. Blood ran from his nose. His red eyes flicked past me to Helena.

And he smiled.

“You’re too late,” he whispered. “He knows she’s awake.”

A cold went through me. He?

Before I could ask who, before I could get a name or a location or anything, his jaw locked and there was a wet sound.

He bit down hard until blood poured from his mouth. He convulsed once in my grip and went limp.

He’d bitten off his own tongue. I dropped him. He hit the floor with a thud.

The penthouse was ruined. There was glass everywhere. The smell of blood and ozone from Helena’s mark. And in the middle of it all, Helena was sitting on the floor, staring at her wrist like she didn’t recognize her own hand.

The awakening had started and someone already knew.

I crossed the room in two steps and knelt in front of her. Her skin was pale, the silver mark was still faintly glowing under her skin, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

“Helena,” I said. “Look at me.”

Her eyes lifted to mine. They weren’t entirely brown anymore.

“Did it hurt?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It felt... like coming home.”

The moment those words left her lips, a look of horror spread quickly across my face.