CHAPTER 24

JARRETT

We drove three hours completely out of the crowded city where there were no cell phones, no league executives, and absolutely no sign of Kade.

There was only a thick wall of trees, a rough dirt road, and an old log cabin my grandfather had built by hand long before the hockey league even knew wolves existed.

"It is a safe house," I told Helena gently as I finally killed the engine. "It belongs to my family. There are no security cameras here and we have protective wards placed all along the property line."

She didn’t ask any unnecessary questions, choosing instead to simply open the door and step outside.

The air out here was completely different from the city. It smelled like pine needles and cold river water. There was no scent of rust out here, and none of that heavy rain that smelled like the old freight yards.

Yet despite the clean air, Helena still smelled distinctly like fear.

I led her inside the cabin. The space consisted of just one large room containing a stone fireplace, a bed, and a wooden table. There was a heavy silver blade kept locked inside a metal box mounted on the wall.

It was kept there strictly for extreme emergencies, meant to protect against dangerous rogues.

Helena caught sight of the metal box and went completely pale in an instant.

"Take it down," her voice shook as she spoke.

"What?" I asked.

"The silver," she repeated as her tone sharpened. "Take it down right now."

I did exactly what she asked, removing the heavy box from the wall and carrying it out to the storage shed behind the cabin.

When I walked back inside, she was wrapping her arms tightly around herself as if she were freezing. "I don’t ever want to become that," she whispered. "I don’t want to be the exact same kind of monster that killed my parents."

"You won’t," I promised her.

"How can you possibly know that?" she snapped at me, her chest heaving. "You didn’t see what happened that night. I was still young then. I heard them die, Jarrett. I heard every single one..."

She cut herself off abruptly, breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

I didn’t try to touch her just yet, knowing she needed space to process.

"Sit down," I instructed softly, pointing toward the warmth of the hearth. "We are absolutely not forcing anything to happen right now. We are just going to focus on breathing."

She sat down on the floor, and I took a seat directly across from her.

"Here is the first rule," I explained. "You cannot fight the feeling. Fighting against the transformation only makes the pressure worse."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"You simply feel it," I told her. "You name the sensation, and you let me act as your anchor."

She let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "Anchor me? You make it sound like keeping a dog on a short leash."

"It is more like a wolf connecting with her pack," I corrected gently. "It is entirely different."

For the next hour, absolutely nothing happened.

We just listened to the crackle of the wood fire and focused entirely on breathing.

Then the shift finally started. Her eyes began to flicker rapidly, changing from brown to gold and back to brown again.

"Jarrett..." she gasped out, panic rising in her throat.

"I am right here," I said instantly. "Tell me what you are feeling."

"I can feel absolutely everything," she whispered, her voice filled with awe and terror. "I can feel the heat of the fire, the sound of your heartbeat, and a deer moving two hundred yards out in the woods. I can feel the silver sitting out in the shed, and it feels like hot knives driving straight into my head."

Her hands began to shake violently as her fingernails started lengthening into sharp claws.

A painful sound tore its way out of her throat, sounding half like a sob and half like a feral growl.

"Don’t," she begged me, tears welling in her eyes. "Don’t let me hurt you, Jarrett. Don’t let me lose control."

"Look at me," I commanded firmly.

She raised her head, and her eyes were fully gold now with her pupils blown completely wide.

She looked absolutely terrified.

"This is exactly like that night," she whispered. "This is how my parents died. The wolf is the monster, and the monster is me."

"No," I countered immediately. "It is not you."

"Then what else could it be?" she shouted, and the sheer power in her voice made the cabin windows rattle.

"It is the part of you that survived the attack," I explained. "It is the legacy your parents died to protect. It is the power Kade wants to control and the strength Brent fears."

She clutched her head tightly. "It hurts, Jarrett. It hurts so much."

"I know it does," I said, and then I moved.

I didn't move to grab her or restrain her against her will.

Instead, I sat down directly behind her, pressing my back flat against hers so she could feel my presence without feeling trapped.

"Breathe with me," I instructed. "In, out, in, out."

She was still shaking violently against me, her teeth bared in pain.

My own wolf surged forward inside me, channeling the Beta instinct and the grounding Riot energy the team had named me for. I wasn't trying to dominate her, but rather to give her something solid to lean on.

I let that steady, calm energy roll off me in waves, projecting safety, comfort, and protection.

Helena made a choked sound as if something inside her was finally breaking.

"I can smell your blood," she gasped out. "I can smell the wolf living right under your skin. What happens if I turn on you?"

"You won’t turn on me," I said confidently. "Because I am not afraid of you, and you don’t have to be afraid of yourself either."